


Fell-Searcher

by RavenZaphara



Series: Soul-Searcher AUs [3]
Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: "Weirdest hate-sex I've ever had.", (lots of it admittedly i'm sorry), ...... I swear it's healthy., Angst, Can someone give me a hug?, Comedy, Comfort, Commenter interaction, DID YA GUESS?, DND chapters, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Dry Humping, Edging, Eventual Smut, F/M, GUESS WHAT COMES NEXT GUYS!, HEALTHY poly relationship, Healing, Love Triangle, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Multi, NO FONTCEST, No Incest, Orgasm Denial, Other, Past Abuse, Poly Relationship, Protectiveness, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader becomes a monster, Reader's Choice - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Realistic Depitctions of Abuse Survivor and Healing from Abusive Situations, SKELES WITH BAGGAGE, Sans Has Issues, Self-Discovery, Sex Dreams, Sexual Tension, Skippable Smut, Slow Burn, Spinoff of Soul-Searcher, Underfell version of Soul-Searcher, Vaginal Fingering, Violence, WELL IF YOU GUESSED "Slake getting boned in their monster form" YOU'D ABSOLUTELY BE CORRECT, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO READ SOUL-SEARCHER FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE, because i needed something even weirder than the other shit i've written, but this is my vent fic if i gotta remind you, edging?, fear kink, healing through sexual exploration, however it might offer some context, idk it's something i guess i needed personally, it just has a bonus of being full of comedy and relatable shit, magic sex??, mild bondage themes, papyrus has adhd, reader has to explain sex to skeles, shower intimacy, slight exhibitionism, smut will be skippable, the skeletons have skeletons in their closets, this is where i work out my issues from when i was abused, warnings in notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 71,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7699030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/RavenZaphara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Soul-Searcher took place in Underfell, what would change?</p><p>Perhaps, once again, it's easier to list what doesn't change.</p><p>(An Underfell fic that features Complex Characterization, a Unique Spin on things, NO enslaving of the reader, NO noncon, and NO Fontcest.</p><p>If you enjoy those things, that's for you, but i wanted a story without those attributes. </p><p>SO IF YOU LIKE FEELINGS, TASTEFUL COMEDY IN A DARK SETTING, SKIPPABLE SMUT WITH A REMARKABLE AMOUNT OF BUILDUP, AND COMPLICATED EMOTIONS--</p><p>Step right up and enjoy this fic!)</p><p>((You do not have to read Soul-Searcher for this to make sense, however it might offer some context.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slaked Thirst

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Soul-Searcher](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6210733) by [RavenZaphara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/RavenZaphara). 



> First off, this chapter is going to be the darkest of them, I'm fairly certain. 
> 
> Warnings for: Murder, nihilism, apathy, emotional numbness, thoughts of suicide (hinted at, not outright).
> 
> This is a story of healing, of coping. Of growing from the ashes of your past and pain and becoming your fullest potential.

You were holding His knife still, staring at the blood on it. You touched your face with a bloody hand. You were smiling.

You put the knife down on the counter and looked in the mirror. You were smiling.

Shower, change, pack. You grabbed the knife and looked at it, wiping the blood off on the shirt you’d discarded. You put the knife into your pocket and left, walking quickly. The sun was setting over the woods. You didn’t mind the darkness.

You were smiling.

 

* * *

 

Something soft touched your face. Warm and soft, like a blanket.

Were you being suffocated?

Your eyes sprang open and you flailed, lashing out at whatever was accosting you. The hits connected, but the creature didn’t even seem perturbed. Your eyes focused at last and you saw a brilliant white goat-person with wicked looking horns and black markings on his face. He stared down at you curiously.

_Oh fuck, I’m in hell._

“Hello, Lucifer. Good to see you.” You muttered absently.

He cocked his head at you. “Chara?”

Your confusion must have shown.

“Do… you want a hug?” He hesitantly reached for you again and you tried to crawl away.

“Ｄｏｎ＇ｔ ｔｏｕｃｈ ｍｅ．” Your voice was cold and detached, and your eyes glinted dangerously.

He flinched away. “Uh… I’m sorry. What’s your name?” He had to look away from your smile. It was too eerily similar.

You were silent.

Asriel helped you stand and guided you through the ruins. There was something about you that made him nervous. Even though you were obviously hurt, you showed no sign of physical pain. He wasn’t sure Toriel could help you the way you needed.

In Asriel’s head, the small child spoke up. _They don’t feel anything, do they?_

Asriel shook his head in response. The child, who had insisted their name was Frisk, had fallen down three years ago, and over the course of years worth of resets had understood the futility of this world. Monsters weren’t evil, no, but… they weren’t good either. The occasion Frisk had managed to get them to the surface… war had sprung forth from the mountain, hundreds of years’ worth of anger flowing in a never-ending stream.

And unlike the last time, monsters had the advantage.

Frisk had reset and Asriel had accepted their plea: absorb their soul so that it could not break the barrier. Protect the barrier. Ever since then, Asriel had stayed with Toriel. She had remarked joyously just last week that she’d found a wrinkle on her face. At last she could age peacefully.

Would you endanger them? It was a grave possibility, Asriel knew. He couldn’t allow that. Let you harm the others, yes, but… not Toriel. Not when she could finally have some semblance of happiness.

 

* * *

 

Asriel had snuck you through the house successfully, left you at the door, and with a clearly guilty expression, left you there.

The snow was nearly knee deep, but you didn’t hesitate as you plodded along. You told yourself to be like the cold. Be numb, impassive. You fingered the knife again before letting go of it and growling at yourself. It was about that time you heard something behind you. You didn’t bother turning around. Whatever approached, it either killed you or didn’t.

After all, this was hell wasn’t it? What did it matter?

“there’s an awful lot of death sticking to you, you know.” A dark voice growled in your ear. “who’d you kill, kid?”

You turned around, finding yourself face to face with a skeleton who was about your height. His teeth were jagged, with one either capped or replaced with gold.

“Go on and kill me. Or am I already gone?” You whispered, and the pinpricks in his hollow sockets stared into your eyes with confusion that was swept away into false amusement.

You turned around and kept walking the way you’d been before he’d interrupted you. You made it a couple steps before he appeared in front of you abruptly. You kept walking, not caring if he’d move.

The amusement turned to discomfort as you drew closer. “uh... might wanna back up a bit, kid.”

Woodenly, you replied. “I’m not a fucking kid.” You felt the heat of your rage begin boiling in you again, slowly simmering. You clenched your fists to ignore the metal in your pocket, pressed against your flesh. You took another step. “I don’t care anymore.” Your voice wasn’t as hollow and brittle now as you kept walking. “Either kill me or get out. Of. My. Way.”

He finally moved to avoid your path, and he stared after you. There was something familiar in your patterns, something familiar in your face-- not that he had much practice reading humans, but… It was written all over you in big, bold letters. And then, to top it off, he glimpsed your soul and it was even more clear.

You really, _really_ , didn’t need to be alone.

After a brief war with himself, he followed you. When he caught up, he tried to grab your attention. You didn’t spare him a glance but he could tell you were listening. Call it intuition.

“hey, got a name?”

You were silent for a long time as you thought. You didn’t want your name anymore. It was too hard to reconcile the you of now to the you of then. You remembered the feeling of His blood on your hands and felt that smile on your face again. “Call me Ko.” you said at last. Yes, it felt right. How right it was, to take the name of the person who had taken your humanity. Who had taken everything from you.

Why not adopt the name of your kill?

Sans personally didn’t like that smile. It was twisted. And that was coming from someone who smiled through terrible shit, too. Your face and your voice were at odds, and it confused him. He glanced at your soul again, hesitantly. You didn’t have enough Determination to reset, he reminded himself. Not that you could, anyway. Who knew what this muddy, darkly stained soul would be capable of in the throes of death?

Sans kept following you, trying to puzzle out your soul and also figure out who you’d killed. You weren’t covered in dust, but he could scent blood on you.

It had been three years, right? You weren’t frisk, were you? No, Sans knew. _frisk doesn’t talk. and they’re gone. gaster said so._ But that was okay, now, right? Another soul, another chance at freedom! Sans couldn’t bring himself to be excited, though.

You might be easy enough to kill, but Sans had a feeling that there was some factor he wasn’t taking into consideration, here. And he didn’t like that. That was why it was necessary to follow you so closely.

Another monster saw you and started forward, summoning their weapon. Sans knew the little guy didn’t have a chance, not when “Ko” had a Level Of Violence high enough already…

But you surprised him. Your smile fell away and you dodged the attacks lazily, sometimes not quickly enough. You didn’t seem to mind being hit at all. The damage did nothing to phase you and you just kept letting the fight drag on, hands in your pockets, waiting for something.

At last the monster grew too weary to continue the fight. _pathetic._ Sans thought.

He expected you to kill them now, but all you did was walk past, and when they went to impede you again, you pushed them back into the snow with a violent shove and kept walking. The creature would survive, if they could get past the shame of being left alive. Sans thought on this for a moment and smiled at the monster as he passed. He, too, would spare them. Not like Executing them would do him any good, anyway.

That wasn’t the only time you encountered someone who was out to kill you. Sans expected to see you get impatient and just dust them. He expected something other than numbness to flicker across your face. Every time you were hit with an attack, he held his breath, so sure that you would finally erupt in a flare of temper.

At last, it seemed, you began to fight back. You punched one monster dead in the face and as they held their head, you walked right past them, not caring that you left your back exposed. The monster apparently had had enough, though, and walked away before you could change your mind.

What was wrong with you? He knew you’d killed before, and recently. Why weren’t you doing it now? He was fascinated, and also morbidly curious.

He approached your side again, thinking to start up a conversation. You weren’t much for talking, but he could feel your attention on him. In a desperate attempt to get a reaction, he started at jokes. His problem was that his jokes were pretty shitty, especially in context.

“he said to grow a backbone, so i formed a spine as a weapon and stabbed him in the fuckin throat with it.” He finished the anecdote, waiting for a response. He didn’t get one. With a sigh he thought on other things to talk about. Maybe you just didn’t have a sense of humor. That would suck, but oh well.

“uh... anything you wanna know?”

You didn’t respond. He sighed again. “got a plan, or are you just gonna wander aimlessly down here?”

You cleared your throat. “Where is ‘here’?”

He was glad to get anything right about now, even questions. “underground. don’t tell me humans forgot us down here.”

“Fine.” You said and didn’t reply otherwise.

That didn’t surprise him. After all, they hadn’t been ready for them on that one, sweet day where the Barrier had fallen. Sans grinded his teeth a bit at the thought of Frisk dragging everyone back to the Underground after all that trouble. What did they expect? Why couldn’t they take responsibility for their actions?

Why couldn’t monsters just have their damned justice?

“any other questions, maybe?”

You looked at the snow around you and glared, still hiking through it, but you didn’t say anything.

“this area is called tundra. our king, asgore, ain’t for naming stuff, really. there’s a town there. you, uh… planning on tiring _everyone_ out, or what? ‘cause they’re all gonna keep attacking you. you’ll die eventually.”

You shrugged.

“i’d offer to take you to lunch but…” He stopped talking when you suddenly glanced at him, eyes cold and narrowed. Your jaw was set, lips pressed into a thin line. Sans didn’t try to talk again for a moment.

“Lunch sounds good.” You said at last.

He sighed. “alright, i’ll grab lunch, but you can’t eat in town. wait right here.”

As you watched, he disappeared before your eyes. You sighed in aggravation and sat there for a moment. _I shouldn’t take orders._ You thought, and began to walk again when you heard something approaching rapidly.

“HUMAN!” You didn’t react to the obvious attempt at your attention. You didn’t even turn to look at the lanky, sprinting figure hurtling across the snow. “PREPARE FOR YOUR DEATH!” He roared and threw himself at you. You stepped easily to the side and he hit the snow face-first with a loud _plof!_ noise of broken snow.

You stared down at him as he lay there for a moment. Into the snow, the tall skeleton was shouting. Muffled, but you could still understand. “GODDAMMIT!”

He pushed himself up, and you realized just how tall he was. Outrageously tall, and he looked like the poster boy for Edgy Attire™ armor with what appeared to be spandex covering his legs and arms. He certainly looked like he’d seen better days, with a nasty crack in his skull.

He squared up again and you just let out a tired breath. “I’m not going to fight you.” You said. You would, of course, if you had to, but at this point you were just tired and wanted to lay down and not get back up.

“GOOD! THIS SHOULD BE QUICK AND PAINFUL, THEN.” He said, his sockets roaring with scarlet fire. You were not phased, but you enjoyed the visual interest, even when what appeared to be a six-foot-long bone materialized in his hands. Without further preamble, he swung it at you and you moved backward just enough that you should have felt the air stir. Apparently whatever that bone was made of was undeterred by air, somehow. Either that or you were dreaming or (again) dead and physics crapped out on you.

You didn’t bother moving again. You couldn’t be bothered. In any scenario you could believe, this wasn’t a matter of import. You’d either wake up next to Ko and live out the rest of your days under his thumb, or you’d get the shit smacked out of you for the rest of eternity as a penance for slitting Ko’s pathetic throat.

Either way, apathy overtook you.

The blow hit full on, breaking your arm in two places and also cracking your ribs. You were sent flying and didn’t bother getting up. You could feel the pain, yes, but beyond it was nothing. It was a dull ache. You knew it should be more than that, but you didn’t care.

He’d hesitated, hadn’t he? When he’d realized you weren’t going to move and just stared at him silently, unphased…

The pathetic monster that had fought you earlier had told him you were stoic, but this was insane. What kind of creature didn’t react to being accosted?!

He flinched internally. He could feel the presence of your soul, could feel the tarnished emotions glossed with so much pain that it overshadowed the physical damage he’d just thrown at you. He cautiously moved forward to peer down at you. You hadn’t moved, but he could see you were aware, staring up at him.

What was that phrase that Grillby used all the time? “Celestial fuckclamp.” He swore under his breath. Carefully, he bent down to pick you up. Your broken bones-- he gagged. The books had mentioned skeletons within the meat sacks, but… it was another thing to see it physically, hear it, _know_ it from experience.

Gingerly, he held you to himself, wary of his sharp edges. You were bleeding, he saw upon closer inspection. You had taken quite a beating before he’d even found you. Briefly he wondered if Sans had done any of that damage before waving the thought off with a smirk. The idea of Sans putting forth any form of effort was laughable.

The shed was dark when he reached it and he set you down on the dog bed. “A bit small.” He observed without much care, but he had the face that Undyne had once referred to as “Biting the bitter bug”-- her way of calling him a sour bastard, he assumed.

He grabbed your arm and focused enough energy into your bone to set and fuse it. You stirred a bit, letting out a growl from the invasive and likely painful sensation, but he wasn’t just going to leave it. He knew what broken bones felt like, after all. Not pleasant, and he wouldn’t personally wish it on anyone.

He wasn’t out to kill the unfortunate human, after all, despite his… _greeting_ you on the contrary. Before, he’d had the idea to kill you and thus attain the level of respect and fear you already commanded from those you’d beaten. But now that he’d seen that strange ability himself… he wanted to find out how to learn it. True fearlessness. That’s what he saw it as, and you wouldn’t convince him otherwise.

You would have quite the time convincing him that nihilism and apathy were not exactly in his capabilities. If you woke up any time soon, that is. If there was anything that Papyrus wasn’t, it was patient. He ended up locking you in and retreating to the house to start cooking dinner for himself. He knew Sans would likely be eating at Grillby’s, and wasn’t about to waste his time trying to feed him.

He briefly wondered if he should bring you food, but wavered. Did humans eat? He couldn’t remember. It had been years since he’d seen those books…

Maybe there was one in the lib… Librarby? _Library_. The memory made his face twist into a grimace and Papyrus dropped what he was doing to go back out to the shed. He grabbed a can of red paint, spared a glance at you to see that the sound of the door had startled you awake. You stared at him. He grunted and ran back out, slamming and locking the door back.

He went about painting the sign over the **_LIBRARY_ ** in correction, making a mental note to properly insult someone about it in the near future.

He knew the misspelling would be back next week. This was a normal occurrence. There was someone in town who was a total ass and kept changing it back. If he ever found out who it was, stars help them. _Stars help them!_ He didn’t appreciate being made fun of, and that’s exactly what it felt like.

Unbeknownst to the Great and Terrible Papyrus, Sans had a deal with the owner of the library. It was a personal little joke and reminder to himself, both of his brother’s temper and his roots.

When he and Papyrus had been on their own after Gaster had gone up in smoke, so to speak, Paps had had to learn to speak aloud and sometimes stumbled over his words. Words like Yesterday, Peppermint, Library, and Spaghetti gave him trouble.

To this day, Sans treasured the way Papyrus would slur the words. “Yessaday, the librarby lady gave me a parpiment candy!” for example. Sans never wanted to forget that, and so he did get a sick kick out of seeing his little brother climb the building face to paint over the sign every week.

Especially since the last time he was direct in his reminder, asking Papyrus if they were having “Spabegi” for dinner, Sans had ended up pinned to the wall by a bone across his neck, dangling a few feet above the ground. Papyrus was careful not to actually hurt him, but Sans got the point. He took to being more passive aggressive with the joke.

Papyrus was satisfied now, and went back inside, placing the paint can next to the door. Abruptly, he remembered the food. Luckily, there was no fire yet, but the water in the pot was close to boiling completely dry. With a growl, Papyrus salvaged dinner and went about the nightly ritual.

Sans finally made his way back to the place where you were supposed to have waited. “ko, where’d you go?” The snow that had been disturbed had been blown and covered, and so Sans had very little to go on other than the smell of human blood. “ah, fuck.” He groaned and warped back to Tundra.

 

* * *

 

You were awake now, yes. You were also suddenly aware of how damn cold you were, and how much everything hurt. You willed all that away. Physical pain was a normal thing, broken bones or no. The cold was more irritating, but you huddled in on yourself and tried to figure out what to do.

 _Nothing you can do._ You remembered now, looking at your hands. There was still blood under your pinkie nail, you noted. You were pretty sure it wasn’t yours, but you couldn’t be sure anymore. After the shitty day you’d just had, you mused it could be yours or the fucking pope’s. Who knew anymore?

You hid your hands in your pocket, feeling the knife against your skin. You took it out and marveled at it with no small amount of revulsion.

Ko had asked you to tie him up. Yes, and you had agreed. He had asked you to do things. You had agreed. Always agreed, lest he hurt you worse. You had reached over for his knife. He told you to put it down. You refused and smiled. You pointed at the scars on your body, and he realized now that perhaps he’d made a mistake this time. Perhaps you weren’t as broken as he’d thought.

 _It doesn’t matter what Ko thought anymore._ You realized. _Dead men don’t think. Dead men can’t hurt me._

 _Not entirely true._ You reminded yourself, touching the arm that had been broken earlier. _Skeletons are dead, right? Pretty sure I got fucked up by a dead guy._ You shook your head to dispel the thought and began touching along the bones that ached as if they were broken but upon closer investigation were obviously not.

You sat there staring at your body, cold with returning emotions. “I could have killed him ages ago.” You mused. “I wouldn’t have nearly as many scars… and…” You didn’t finish the thought. You didn’t have to.

Your skin was crawling from the memory of his touch.

You clutched the knife. Because of course it was the same knife that he’d used to take away from you. Not just the scars, but also the knife you’d ultimately used to kill him. Let it take away something else, you thought dismally, feeling tears prick your eyes for the first time in a long… long time.

You ground your teeth and clutched at your face with your empty hand. Your hair was matted to your head with sweat and blood, and you were irritated.

 _Let it take away your pride._ You thought, your grip going steady on the knife. You clutched at your hair and began to hack at it. When the length was manageable you began to cut closer to the scalp. When you got as much of it off as you could, you threw the knife across the room and curled in on yourself.

 

* * *

 

“hey, bro, have you… seen a human around here?”

“IN THE SHED.” Papyrus replied from the kitchen. “DON’T KILL IT, I’M NOT DONE WITH IT YET.”

Sans cringed. “the hell are you up to?”

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. WHAT ARE _YOU_ UP TO?”

“humans need to eat, dumbass.”

Papyrus grunted but had the grace to appear guilty when he turned to look at Sans. “I AM NEITHER DUMB NOR DO I HAVE AN ASS.” He said tiredly. It was a regular argument.

Sans didn’t even listen past the first word, warping into the shed to find you curled up with your hair scattered around you. The glimmer of the knife called his attention, but it was across the room. Your scalp was bleeding in a couple of places, and he moved closer to you.

You didn’t stir until you smelled the greasy food. Blearily, you looked up and flinched a bit, as if expecting a blow. In truth, you were. It was a natural reaction for you to flinch any time you made eye contact with a man without Ko’s permission.

 _Not anymore._ You reminded yourself, curling your fist and looking back up at him with steel in your eyes. Sans could see the boiling rage in your eyes. _I am my own godsdamned master. I killed for that right._

He set the bag of food down and knelt next to you. “sweet fucking christ, ko.” You flinched at the name. “if you wanted to look like a skeleton, all you had to do was ask.” He said, and carefully put his hands on your scalp, checking the wounds before applying the bit of healing magic he was familiar with to them. It was barely enough to disinfect and scab the scratches, but it was enough for now.

Papyrus barged in and found Sans there, holding the human’s mostly shaved head in his hands. You flinched at the gentleness of the touch. When was the last time you’d been handled with kid gloves? You snarled. You didn’t want pity, you didn’t want care. Your continued existence, your survival not just of the past day, but of the past six years… it was _proof_ that you weren’t made of glass.

“WHAT IS GOING ON, SANS?”

He shrugged easily and looked back at you. “ko seems a bit…” He noticed your grimace this time.

“WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT? IT’S EVEN LAZIER THAN YOURS.”

“syllables don’t make a name less lazy.” Sans grumbled absently, studying your face with hard pinpricks. Papyrus hardly knew the extent of their names being lazy, honestly. Especially since Sans had named his brother himself.

Sans tilted your head to look into your eyes. "would you like a different name?”

You looked away from him, wrenching your face from his grip. “What are you intending to do to me?” You weren’t apathetic anymore. You were angry. You were ready to fight your way out of hell. What had you truly done wrong? If any god would condemn you for your sins, let them strike you down themself. Let them live with Ko for even an hour and not do the same!

Sans turned to his brother with an irritated smirk. “good question.”

Papyrus jolted a bit and shut the door, approaching closer, looming over the two of you before finally crouching next to Sans. He was still ridiculously too tall. He looked sheepishly down at you. "I DID NOT EXPECT YOU TO SUBMIT SO EASILY."

"Yeah, no. So am I dead, or....?" You asked wryly, voice barely managing to not crack.

The brothers exchanged glances. "no." The smaller one said at last. "you’re alive. to be frank, i’m shocked."

Papyrus nodded. “THAT ACTUALLY SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORTAL DAMAGE, EVEN THOUGH I PULLED MY ATTACK AT THE LAST MOMENT.”

You took a deep breath and sighed. “So, I’m not dead. I’ve encountered Satan himself, been attacked by creatures made of ice and… skeletons. What the fuck is going on, if I’m not dead or dreaming?”

Sans handed the bag to you, and you looked at it warily. “it’s food. eat up, it’ll help with the pain.”

It certainly smelled good, and at this point you were sure that if they wanted to kill you they were more than capable of doing so directly. You reached into the bag and pulled out a burger that looked slightly overcooked. You didn’t care, biting into it viciously, maybe a little too viciously, making eye contact as you shredded the meat with your teeth.

They didn’t look intimidated. Papyrus looked curious, Sans was fascinated. You rolled your eyes and ate the burger quickly. Surprisingly, it was pretty good, even burnt.

“yeah, sorry. grillbz isn’t exactly happy with me so he made a point to burn it.”

“IF YOU’D PAY HIM OCCASIONALLY, THAT WOULDN’T HAPPEN, YOU CHEAP BASTARD.”

You almost felt a flicker of amusement, but you were more concerned with licking the grease off your fingers. Now that you looked at your hands, you hesitated. Covered in dirt, blood, but no longer scratches. You felt a desperate desire to shower.

You said nothing and stared up at them. “You never answered me. What am I here for? And what does it mean?”

Ah, how philosophical of you.

“like i said before, this is the underground. centuries ago, we were sealed down here by the power of seven human souls.”

“Is that so?” You grumbled, looking in the bag again and discovering some burnt fries and some packets of ketchup and salt. You continued to stuff your face and Sans snagged a few of the ketchup packets, piercing them on his teeth between sentences and sucking the red condiment out somehow.

“yeah, probably sounds like bullshit to you, but just pretend for a moment that you’re in the goddamn underground talking to monsters. whether it was your reality on the surface or not, it’s your reality now.”

You nodded and sighed. “Can’t argue with that logic. So get on with it.” You motioned him along with a charred fry.

Sans looked over at his brother. “why _are_ you keeping them in here?”

He looked like he just remembered where he was. “YES, AS I WAS SAYING! AH…” He paused and looked at the ground for a moment before standing and staring down at you. “YOU WILL STAY WITH MY BROTHER AND I UNTIL I DISCOVER WHAT IT IS YOU POSSESS THAT INSPIRES SUCH AWE IN THE OTHERS. I WISH TO LEARN FROM YOU, AND WHEN I NO LONGER HAVE USE OF YOU, YOU MAY CONTINUE ON.”

You hitched an eyebrow and smirked at him. “Continue to _where_? Like I have anywhere to go?”

The taller skeleton just crossed his arms and looked away. It was a childish sentiment and you were a bit irked by it, admittedly. “OF COURSE YOU WOULD PROGRESS ONWARDS…” He stopped and looked at Sans, who was staring up at him. Papyrus looked down at you. “I SUPPOSE THAT IS NOT IN YOUR BEST INTEREST IF YOU INTEND TO SURVIVE.”

You rolled your eyes again and dusted some of your hair off of your lap.

“so if you’re bent on them staying with us, we need to get a few things out of the way. first off, paps… humans need warmth and food. and showers.” He added, staring up at his brother.

“I WOULD SAY THAT WOULD BE YOUR RESPONSIBILITY, BUT THEY’D BE DEAD WITHIN THE WEEK.”

Sans shrugged, obviously not giving one half a shit. He winked at you and you stared at him blankly. “sure, but they look **dead tired** anyway. probably should get them safely in a warm area and set them up or they might die. that would suck for you, wouldn’t it?”

Papyrus visibly cringed from the pun and even more visibly restricted himself from lashing out physically. At last he heaved a long-suffering sigh and reached down, tugging you to your feet. “ATROCIOUS WORD-PLAY ASIDE, IS MY BROTHER TRUTHFUL, HUMAN?”

You nodded. “Not all we need to be healthy, but it’s a start.” You said.

Sans stood as well and noted that you were holding yourself. He backed away a bit, hoping Papyrus would do the same. You obviously needed space.

You let the brothers lead you out of the shed. To your merit, you didn’t glance at the glimmering silver of Ko’s knife as you left.

The arrangement was simple. You would sleep on the couch, were free to use the shower, were welcome to eat. In return you would advise the brothers on whatever prowess you’d used to inspire awe in the lesser monsters you’d encountered.

You weren’t sure exactly if it was something you could teach, but you had little choice. It was made quite clear that if you left, you would only encounter less hospitable people, less hospitable places. Your best bet was to form what alliances you could and hope it led to something good.

After all, what exactly was on the surface for you? You were a murderer, and being as how Ko was well-loved by his family as well as an “upstanding man of values and God” you were surely being sought out. You smiled. Between the prison of the Underground and a prison on the surface, you felt you were perfectly content to stay here and ride the storm out.

Perhaps there was something you could gain from this situation, eventually.

After a shower and a change of clothes provided by Sans (baggy and awkward but certainly more comfortable than the clothes you’d fallen down in), you were fed again, as you were somehow absolutely ravenous. Sans told you it was mostly because your body was using up a ton of energy trying to repair itself, and since you weren’t used to monster food, it was probably using the energy poorly, unused to being allowed to heal.

Papyrus went to bed early, leaving you and Sans on the couch to watch TV. As much as you didn’t want to rock the boat so soon after it steadying, you needed to figure some things out as well as let him know where you stand.

“How do you know so much about me?” You asked. “I haven’t told you shit, but you act like you already know me.”

He laughed humorlessly. “nah, you’d remember me if i knew you already. but i guess you could say i can read you pretty easily. you wear your **heart** on your sleeve.”

“Fuck off, no I don’t. Quit being an asshole and tell me.”

He grinned at you. “that’s right, tell me how you really feel.”

You growled. “I swear to God if you had an ass, I’d sit you on a cactus and ask you to spin.”

“kinky.” He laughed again, and you groaned in despair. He seemed to be pleased enough from your misery, as he finally managed to gather his capability of seriousness. “so what do you know about souls?” He honestly hadn’t managed to get to coherently talk with Frisk, and when they’d been on the surface, humans weren’t much for conversation.

You looked at him. “Quit changing the subject.”

“i swear it’s relevant.”

You sighed. “Other than I’m pretty convinced they’re bullshit? Nothing much.”

He chuckled. “damn i’m about to make your day, then, aren’t i?” He turned toward you on the couch, and the TV turned off with a flicker of red. “so all creatures have souls.”

“Even shitty ones?” You asked sarcastically.

“even shitty ones.” He replied with a startling amount of patience. “now, this is gonna feel weird and you might feel scared. that’s normal, just know i’m not out to hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. This guy was about as frightening as a can of tomatoes. Sure, if it’s thrown at your head with enough force, it’s scary, but on it’s own, it wasn’t intimidating at all.

There was a tugging sensation, and it felt sharp an unwelcome. Your first instinct was to pull back, but you didn’t. You did tense up in preparation for some sort of danger. You could dodge whatever this guy could throw-- you were confident of that.

Before you was a dull, murky… heart? It didn’t even put out enough light for you to see much. It was mostly illuminated by Sans’s red eyes, which were trained on it as if studying it, mapping it out. “this is your soul.”

You bit your lip. “It’s ugly as shit.” You said, and he chuckled.

“wish i could say i’ve seen worse. anyway, i have no idea what color it’s _supposed_ to be, but you see it’s a bit on the dirty side, right?”

“Is it because I killed someone?” You asked sourly, a giggle working its way into your voice as you added. “Is it because some celestial fartwhisper says that prick’s life was more important than mine?”

He stared at you for a moment, unable to laugh though he actually wanted to. He’d have to tell that one to Grillby. Instead, he took the direct route. “doubt it. i’ve seen a murderer’s soul, and it looks normal. your soul is hurt. you’re depressed.”

You scoffed.

“wanna hazard a guess on why i knew that but no one else figured it out yet?”

“What, are you going to do that whole ‘I’ve been there and know how it feels’ bullshit? Because if so, fuck you and the horse you rode in on.” You were angry enough at the idea to lapse into southern euphemisms. Because why not? Nothing else felt proper right about now.

He pondered what that meant for a moment before replying. “i can see your soul anytime i want to.” He let the words sink in. “i’m not gonna tell you i know how you feel. i don’t. because killing a shitty human shouldn’t really matter one way or another.”

You gave him a look. He didn’t retract his statement, choosing to plow ahead. “and before you say you’re one of those shitty humans, let me point something out.” He pointed at your soul as if in accusation. “your soul is weak as fuck right now, but it’s still stronger than the ones i’ve seen before. at full strength, you won’t be human anymore.”

You gave a bark of incredulous laughter. “I call bullshit.”

“call it all you want, you stone-faced fuck.” He said with a smile. “but i’m pretty sure if i took you to grillbz, he’d tell me you feel like an old friend or some shit. i’d be willing to bet my entire left ass.”

You cocked a brow at him but didn’t ask any of the obvious questions, much to his chagrin. “Okay, so let’s pretend it makes sense. If I’m not human, why am I just now learning that? Wouldn’t I have had some inkling while living on the surface?”

He shrugged. “maybe you’ve never just been at full strength before.”

You wanted to call bullshit on that as well, but then you started thinking. You and Ko had started dating in high school, before you had fully matured. Your life had been a string of abuse and depression, ending the chain when you finally grew weary of persevering under Ko’s influence.

With the fresh energy flowing through you, you were feeling different. This wasn’t just what it felt like to leave that life behind, this was what power felt like. This was you, starting over with something under your skin you’d never known but had always embraced. You just didn’t have a name for it.

“you okay there?” He asked. You jolted and nodded. “good. i’mma put your soul back now, but just gonna let you know, i intend to check on it. wanna take notes on it.”

“Don’t look at my soul unless I say to.” You said. “It’s a shitty thing to do.” The fact that he felt he knew so much about you just from looking at your soul irked you. It was none of his damn business.

He shrugged. “guess so.” He waved your soul back to your body, and you realized that you could see other colors again. It being so dark, you had barely noticed they had gone away.

“So my soul or whatever. How will it get better?”

He shrugged. “guess we’ll be figuring that out. got a plan or two. get some rest.” He said, getting up and nodding to you. You wrapped the blanket around you and sat there on the couch. He made a noise and disappeared again.

You pulled the blanket tighter around you, burying your face in its plushness. It smelled clean, and nothing like home. You didn’t feel homesick-- mostly, you just felt uneasy. Everything had changed. You had a feeling that it wasn’t done changing yet, and as you lay there trying to puzzle out just what you wanted from your life now that it _was_ your life again…

You drifted off to sleep, knowing that no matter what, you would PERSEVERE.


	2. A Change In Pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Living among Monsters can be different, especially when they have more humanity than humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO IT HAS BEEN ONE HELL OF A TIME SINCE I LAST UPDATED.
> 
> This fic is kind of my vent fic, as you will see soon. I have been working on this chapter for months upon months upon months. I finally threw enough stuff together that I could post it-- but then it just kept dragging on. In other words, this 29 page monstrosity of a chapter is not all I have.
> 
> Beware, after this chapter, the sexual content will begin to rear its head. I'm not sure if I'll be able to write it in such a way that it's skippable without context, so I'll experiment with a few different options. I want to keep this as safe to read as possible, for those of you who don't like sexual content, those of you who are underage, etc. 
> 
> This chapter, however, is safe, except for some very awkward conversations about human and monster body differences. But that's okay, right? And violence.

The skeletons stared at your sleeping form splayed across the couch. You’d kicked the blanket off in the night and the shorts you were lent were riding up, showing the puffy and aggravated red scarring on your thighs.

In your sleep, you scratched at your stomach, hiking the shirt up and almost exposing your unbound breasts. More scarring was apparent on your belly, with marks that surely were made by a knife leaving angry stripes on your left hip.

Your arms were covered in bruises and scratches in various states of healing, as well as yet more scar tissue. There was even what appeared to be a name carved into your forearm. It still appeared relatively fresh. Maybe three days old.

The brothers exchanged looks and headed into the kitchen.

"BROTHER, DO ALL HUMANS LOOK LIKE THAT?"

"like what?"

"LIKE THEY WERE SHOVED INTO A MEAT GRINDER.”

Sans was thoughtful. It was a good question, and now that he thought of it, he wasn’t sure. After all, he’d seen so few humans, and scars weren't your primary concern when you aimed to kill.

"The answer is no." You said from the couch, audibly disgruntled. "And for the record, you’re loud as fuck."

Sans couldn't help but chuckle at that. Papyrus gave you an irritated look and went about preparing breakfast as he normally would. Sans turned to watch you as you tugged your shirt down to cover your stomach and carefully pull the shorts down so that the scars were hidden and were not chafed by the fabric.

“should eat more. you’ll heal faster.” He said.

“Sure.” You grumbled. “So… what’s the plan for today, since I’m probably not going back to sleep.”

Sans nodded. “oughta ask paps in there **tibia** honest. i’m mostly out to catch a nap.”

“Did you just? You did, didn’t you?” You stared at him. “Can you do those on command, or is it just a habit to speak in skeleton puns by now? How old _are_ you, anyway?”

Sans glanced away and walked off, whistling a tune that was familiar but you couldn’t place for some reason-- but it made you angry. _How the fuck can he whistle without lips?!_

You got up and walked into the kitchen. Papyrus turned to look at you, and seemed confused. He turned back to the food and you sat down on a countertop. “Forgive my manners, but what am I supposed to do, anyway?”

Papyrus glanced at you, grimaced at your choice in seating, but turned back to the skillet he slaved over, forcing his attention at it, trying to flip an omelet with a fork. You got down and nudged him out of the way. “You gotta do it like this, dude.” You said, and showed him how to flip an omelet using momentum and grease. And wrist muscles. Yep.

You smirked at him. “Wanna learn that trick?”

He nodded eagerly, choosing to stare at the skillet rather than you. You didn’t mind. He was kinda creepy with the whole hollow-sockets thing going on. Plus he was _so tall._ Hurt your neck to have to make eye-contact with him. You guessed he was even taller than K--

You forcefully severed your train of thought and hesitated as you greased the pan again. Your voice was rougher than it had been a moment ago. “Beat the eggs until they’re frothy.” You tried to pull yourself out of your head, away from the emotions and memories that were rapidly resurfacing. You’d killed a man yesterday. How did you forget?

You should be ashamed, right? No, you weren’t… you were angry. He took away so much from you until he even took your peace of mind. What had he left you with?

A broken smile?

You finished showing him how to flip the omelette but you were rapidly losing your ability to keep in touch. You were afraid you were about to become lifeless and empty like you had been the day before. You didn’t have the word for it, but you were beginning to dissociate.

“WOULD YOU LIKE BREAKFAST AS WELL? YOU WILL NEED ENERGY.” His voice was light and not nearly as overbearing as it normally was, but you couldn’t fully appreciate it. It did remind you where you were, though, and that was what you needed. You snapped to your senses very briefly, looked around, saw the front door, and with a deep breath, you began walking.

“I have plenty of energy. I’m going outside.” You muttered, confident that he’d heard, and didn’t look away from the door as you walked, stride solid, steps thumping in your head.

Sans glanced at you, eyes traveling over your state. “you sure about that, kid? it’s... a little chilly out there.”

You didn’t care. You grasped doorknob and went out, closing it and standing barefoot in the snow, looking out at the landscape that was at once too bright and too dark. Was it dust motes or snow drifting on the air? If it was dust motes, was it from a dead monster?

You already knew monsters turned to dust when they died. That goat creature that you thought was Satan told you as much in context. “You’re not gonna dust us, are you?” He’d said. You had just looked at him quizzically until he amended himself. “You won’t kill us?” At least, you were assuming it was literal. It could be a colloquialism of some sort. You wouldn’t be surprised either way. You were in a crazy little fantasy world.

You looked at the other buildings. Everything was so plain. It was… depressing. This entire place looked depressing. Hopeless. _What better place to be trapped, eh?_ You asked yourself and then looked down at your frozen feet. _What better way to atone for straight-up killing a dude._

But Ko hadn’t just been a dude. He had been the person who’d been there in your vulnerable youth. You had been his first, and he had been yours. He had remained so peaceful through the first three years you’d been together, your best friend, your always praising, always smiling bumbling oaf.

But that had changed, hadn’t it? You were imperfect. He didn’t like his toys to be imperfect. No amount of his molding you would change that you had flaws, and he couldn’t stand it. The first time he hit you, pinning you to that wall by your shoulder and calling you a festering maggot… why hadn’t you packed it in right then?

He was your best friend. He was your partner. He only wanted you.

It got worse, and that was when he demanded sex. He used it to guilt you. Unmarried as you were, it was his way of tying his threads tighter around you, making sure you knew you weren’t worth as much to others because he’d taken what he deemed your best.

He told you you were leading him from God with your body. You heard it enough that you began to believe he was telling the truth, and you started wearing things that covered your figure, started to hide under multiple jackets, baggy pants. You hid your hair under hats. In a way, it felt so much better. Sometimes no one would even recognize you when you looked like that, and it felt so nice to be anonymous instead of Ko’s little lapdog.

The scars made the constant cover less sweet, less of an escape and more of a constant struggle to appear normal. Now you were afraid to leave because he’d made you lesser. Who else would ever want someone covered in his markings, _the proof he’d carved into you-- **proof of his ownership?**_

**_He’d--_ **

You gasped as the door opened behind you and Sans stepped out. “Not feeling up to it right now, could you please fuck off?” You asked. You hid your hammering heartbeat, the way you were biting your cheek in rage. You would bury your hatred for your markings, your body, under the trite tone and cold words.

He shrugged, obviously not bothered. “lemme get you something to wear, huh? you wanna freeze your bones off, good for you, but just… humor paps for a day or so, could ya?” There was something in his tone that made you flinch, but there wasn’t the sting of pity. It wasn’t what you’d expected-- but you were glad for the distraction.

You grumbled, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to listen, since you didn’t have anything better to do with your life at the moment. And maybe staying around these boneheads would make it easier to snap out of these episodes. Sans opened the door and ushered you inside. “do good with training today and i’ll treat you to a burger that’s not burnt. deal?”

“What the hell am I training him on?” You asked quietly, so your words wouldn’t reach the taller skeleton as the two of you went back inside.

Sans shrugged. “somehow you got some monsters’ respect for that schtick you pulled back there. he wants to know your secret.”

You grimaced. “I can’t really teach that. It’s not a thing you can just…”

“i know. i think he does, too, really. but... it might also be that he wants a friend. he sees the others’ respect of you as something he wants, i guess.”

“So? Why doesn’t he just fight them, too?” You asked.

“cuz last time he did, the monster dusted and…” Sans shrugged. “well, you know paps packs a punch from experience. most monsters can’t take a hit quite like you.”

“And the others don’t respect that? Surely that’s more impressive than apathy.”

Again with the shrug. “i mean, from what i did see, you handled yourself pretty… oddly. i didn’t know what to expect from you after the first couple of encounters. down here, we fear the unknown.”

You nodded. “Guess I can understand that.” You looked at him. “So, I was right, then? Monsters turn to dust when they die?”

“oh yeah, i forgot humans don’t.” He lied, walking away. He could remember his own blood in his mouth. He could remember painting the snow with Frisk’s. Looking at you, he could only imagine how much more blood you could lose, since you were an adult.

You didn’t mention the vacancy in his sockets, and he seemed to appreciate that. You went back to the kitchen, where Papyrus was plating three omelettes.

"HUMAN! I WAS THINKING..."

‘"heh, that’s dangerous." Sans chuckled.

"QUIET BROTHER! I WAS THINKING THAT IF THE HUMAN IS STAYING WITH US, WE NEED TO SORT OUT WHAT TO CALL THEM.”

“what’s wrong with just calling them human?”

You elbowed him hard in the side. “Call me Human consistently enough and I’ll remind you why you lost the war.”

Papyrus looked satisfied and crossed his arms. “OUT OF RESPECT, IF NOTHING ELSE, SANS. IF I’M TO LEARN ANYTHING FROM THEM, I WANT TO CALL THEM SOMETHING MORE INTIMIDATING THAN MERELY THEIR RACE. NO ONE WILL BE IMPRESSED BY MY MENTOR, THE HUMAN.”

 _Respect_. You hitched your eyebrow at him.

“you know who’s good with names? grillby. c’mon, human, let’s go--”

“I THINK NOT. I PUT A LOT OF STOCK IN GRILLBY’S PROWESS IN MANY THINGS, BUT I THINK INTRODUCING HIM TO THE HUMAN IS A BAD IDEA AT THE MOMENT.”

“he’d treat them fine if we just explained.”

“I don’t know.” You remarked. “If he’s the guy who made your burger, he might not be up for conversation.”

“PAY THE BASTARD, SANS.”

Sans ignored him. “hey, human, wanna grab some mustard with me real quick?”

“Not particularly.” You answered.

“fine.” Sans disappeared and you looked at Papyrus.

“Does he always do that?”

Papyrus heaved a long-suffering sigh and insistently tried again to pass you a plate. You took it and asked for ketchup. Papyrus gave you a look and you ended up going to look for some yourself.

When you came back to the living room, a fairly irate purple man made of fire was standing there, staring down at sans and looking like he was about to punt him across the room. Papyrus was calmly offering the fire-man what was supposed to be Sans’s plate.

The purple man looked to you, and you tried to peer past his shades. His sneering mouth looked jagged, revealing brighter, angrier flames within him. How the fuck did that work, you wondered.

He made a noise, but you couldn’t understand it, and he pushed past Papyrus to approach you. This was not a good thing, you immediately felt, but refused to back up. You could face this man with steel in your bones, even if his aim was to burn you until that was all that was left afterwards.

_I am a creature of spite and blood and you **will respect me!**_

Papyrus and Sans observed the very silent exchange as you glared up at Grillby and he stared down at you. Finally he took off his sunglasses and stooped to stare at you on something closer to equal footing.

Patiently, they waited for Grillby to say something-- anything.

“Holy shit.” He uttered at last, and Papyrus was immensely underwhelmed.

“what are they, grillbz?”

You stared at Sans, kind of irked by his question-- but not nearly as irked that you still hadn’t understood the flaming bastard.

Grillby choked a bit and suddenly you were off the floor and he was hugging you to him. You dropped your plate, but were more concerned by the fact you couldn’t move and you could barely breathe. “What the fuck is going on?!” You managed to choke out.

He made another of those weird noises that sounded like creaking wood and the snarl of popping flames.

“HE SAID HE’S ADOPTING YOU.” Papyrus offered helpfully. “PARDON ME GRILLBY, BUT COULD YOU PLEASE HAND OVER THE HUMAN? THEY LOOK TO BE VERY OVERWHELMED.”

“let’s get you back to the bar, huh? think you need a drink.” Sans pulled at Grillby’s coat sleeve.

You found yourself in Papyrus’s hands when Sans disappeared again with Grillby in tow. “What just happened?” You asked, staring at the skeleton who was holding you under your armpits and setting you back on your feet.

“HE IS VERY FINE-TUNED TO THE SOULS WHO FELL IN BATTLE DURING THE WAR. HE ALWAYS BRAGS THAT HE CAN FEEL VETERANS MOVE AROUND UNDERGROUND AS WELL AS ON THE SURFACE, SOMEHOW. WE ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS EXAGGERATING, BUT YOU MUST HAVE MADE SOME KIND OF IMPRESSION. IT’S QUITE IMPRESSIVE, HONESTLY. HE DOESN’T LIKE HUMANS OR NEW THINGS IN GENERAL. I’M SURPRISED HE DIDN’T TRY TO INCINERATE YOU.”

After a pause, he added. “PERHAPS _THAT_ WAS WHY HE WAS CRUSHING YOU, BUT…”

“So, what’s the deal with that?” you asked Sans as he reappeared.

“he says you feel like a _few_ old friends. he wouldn’t say more than that, but he said your family tradition is to be named after rocks. he suggested ‘shale’ and i think it kinda fits. it’s a rock made of mud that crumbles easily. like your soul. heheh, no offense.”

“THAT’S RIDICULOUS.” Papyrus objected.

“Yeah, and also, fuck you!” You added.

“YES, THEY’RE OBVIOUSLY CLOSER IN NATURE TO ‘SLATE’ AS THEY ARE STARTING ANEW DOWN HERE, AS IF A CLEAN SLATE! ALSO, THEY ARE SO FIERY IN NATURE AND SLATE IS RELEVANT TO FIRE AND VOLCANOS. WE ARE ALSO LOCATED IN A VOLCANO.”

“heh, that’s the closest to a pun i’ve heard from you in years. i’m proud.”

Papyrus went to argue, but you interrupted. “Nope, I’m not being named after a fucking rock!”

The brothers looked at you then. “what would _you_ choose?” Sans asked.

You drew a blank. At last, you turned to the door and walked out. “Training begins _now_ , hurry up!”

 

* * *

 

The training turned out to be you spending a lot of time yelling at Papyrus and encouraging him to hit you. He didn’t seem too into it for the longest time, and you scooped up snowballs and hefted them at him in an attempt to get him to at least move around.

True to his word, Sans was observing casually from the sidelines, half buried under a snowdrift. You didn’t doubt he’d move if the fight somehow escalated and moved into his area, and if he decided not to, you didn’t care much.

Papyrus caught a few of the snowballs with his face, and got aggravated, throwing some back.

“Use your attacks, bonehead!” You demanded. “No one is intimidated by snow!”

“yeah paps, even **icy** what they mean.” Sans said, and promptly disappeared as the area he’d been at was pummeled with bone attacks and snowballs.

“Hit me!” You said. “Don’t listen to him and _hit me!_ ” You were starting to get pretty fired up, your world narrowed to the potential danger, the prospect of familiar pain. You were snarling, not bothering to dodge the snowballs anymore, just reflexively swatting them away from you. The display was impressive enough, and Papyrus wondered if perhaps that was the skill he should be working on first, as it certainly contributed to the image you’d built up among the other monsters.

“Give me something I can’t bat away!” You insisted, not even bothering to chuck snowballs at him now.

What was he going to learn from all this, anyway? If you didn’t dodge his attacks, you’d be hurt-- perhaps even killed!

“You had no problem hitting me yesterday. _Fucking hit me!_ ”

He threw an attack at you and your automatic response was to swat it. It hit with a painful _thwak!_ and Papyrus stilled as he observed you. You had done little more than grunt and shake yourself visibly.

You balanced your weight on your feet. “Again.”

“NO. ARE YOU HURT?”

“ _Again_.” You didn’t yell now, but your tone brooked no argument.

He threw another attack and you dodged it. “Again.”

He saw a pattern now. The way your emotions were hidden under a mask as you refused to submit. You were stubborn-- infuriatingly so-- but you were also strong and unwilling to break. Was that what he needed to learn?

You were dodging, and closing in at once. What would you do when you got up close?

He didn’t fear you, but he easily saw how you’d intimidated the other monsters and he smiled as he continued to lob attacks at you. You didn’t deflect or dodge all of them, and the ones that connected made him flinch. You took that time to get even closer, though he noted that your body responded to pain even if your face didn’t.

It was like you had been made to withstand and hide pain and injury, he thought. A creature who could keep going like that, as if it were nothing new, nothing _frightening_ to be maimed-- yes, this was what had earned respect, surely!

He quit trying to hit you, and began trying to put distance between you, moving backward while making the attacks easier for you to dodge, despite the fact that you were visibly slowing down. Still, you kept demanding he attack again and again.

Finally, he yelled. “ENOUGH!” but you continued to move forward. He stood there. “LET ME CHECK YOUR INJURIES.”

You shook yourself again and kept moving, though the intimidating posture was gone now. You were limping, he noted, and when he reached out to look at the problem areas where he’d seen the blows connect, you flinched just enough to make his shoulders slump. “MAY I TOUCH YOU? IT’S THE ONLY WAY I CAN FIX THE DAMAGE.”

You nodded and looked away as he began to assess your injuries. Gingerly, he took hold of your arm and you felt him shudder. “I’M RELIEVED YOUR ARM ISN’T MAKING THE SOUND OF MASSACRED RAW PASTA.”

You cracked a smile. “Is that all? Can we get back to training?”

“think that’s enough for today, shale.”

“Don’t call me that.” You grimaced.

“I THINK HE’S RIGHT, SLATE.”

“Not that either.” You said just as sourly.

“c’mon, **shale** , you’re getting tired, aren’t ya? i’m tired just _watchin’_ ya.”

“Quit calling me that.” They just kept going with this, but it was more like they were talking to each other, more than you. That was even worse.

“IF WE CONTINUE, YOU’LL LIKELY BE SERIOUSLY INJURED… **SLATE**.” He turned to you. “AUDIBLE WINK.”

“Goddammit, I will rip off your arm and beat you to death with it if either of you call me a rock name again!” The threat was empty, because you were too busy trying not to laugh at Papyrus.

There was a pause. “that’s pretty harsh, **shate**.”

“Shate?!” You were unable to suppress the bark of laughter that escaped you.

“oops, sorry, slip of the tongue.”

“Do you even _have_ a tongue?!”

“I SUPPOSE IT IS NOT A ROCK NAME.” Papyrus said, a smile in his voice. “IS IT ACCEPTABLE, **SHAKE**?”

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

“i think it’s a great idea, **shlale**.”

“I will kill you both.” Both of them were smiling, and you were trying to hold yourself off from giggling.

“NYEH-HEH-HEH, I BELIEVE **STAKE** IS COMING AROUND TO THE IDEA, SANS.”

“That doesn’t even sound like either of the names.” You complained.

“BUT YOU’RE SMILING.” Papyrus commented. “AND IT’S A GOOD SMILE. LOOKS QUITE FEROCIOUS. IT IS CERTAINLY A **STALE** -BRAND MASTERPIECE OF A SMILE, _SHLATE_.”

He covered his mouth and growled. Sans fell on the ground and started cackling. “What just happened.” You asked Papyrus flatly.

He was blushing, you realized, and looking away. “NOTHING. MY BROTHER IS LAUGHING AT THE ENTIRELY-INTENTIONAL JEST.”

You looked at Sans, rolling in the snow, and decided that Papyrus was full of shit, but you didn’t say anything. He looked pretty embarrassed, after all. You were apathetic, but you weren’t without mercy.

“I’LL BE RETURNING TO THE HOUSE TO PREPARE LUNCH.”

“We just ate, dude.” You reminded him. “Wait up.”

“NO.” He said, still walking.

You kicked snow onto Sans, and it got into his sockets. He sputtered and got up. He glared at you, but was still smiling. “Kinda shitty thing to do, laughing at someone who misspoke.” You uttered at him, quietly enough that you hoped Papyrus didn’t hear.

He had the grace to look guilty. “sorry, just that i haven’t heard him mess up like that in years.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” You said. “Now go tell him to get back over here and fight me again.”

“all due respect, **slay** , probably a good idea to hold up on that. maybe he’ll feel better after lunch, but you need to rest. don’t know what it’s like where you come from but when someone gets the shit beat out of them here, they don’t beg for more.”

You stiffened at that. “I didn’t beg for more. He asked me to train him and--”

“and all you’ve done is show him that you can take a hit. we get it, you’re determined. what are you gonna do next? he doesn’t want to hit you. dunno if you understand this, but he _doesn’t miss unless he means to._ and he was missing you more than he was hitting you.”

You were silent.

“what, did you think we were just going to pulverize you for however long you stay? that’s not what we’re about.”

You still couldn’t find words.

Sans realized he might have hit a nerve and sighed. “c’mon. let’s get back to the house. you’re shivering.”

“Slake.” You said softly. “How about Slake?”

“heh... sounds cool, i guess.”

“If you call me anything, call me that.”

“sure thing.” He said, voice low. The two of you began to walk back to the house.

 

* * *

 

With lunch came an odd question. "YOU HOLD YOUR ARMS OVER YOUR CHEST WHEN YOU MOVE. WHY?"

"Uh." You grimaced. "I guess you wouldn't get it, huh? Well. I uh. Have breasts. It’s uncomfortable to move around quickly with them unless I’m wearing specific types of clothes over them. I hold them down when i move to reduce jiggle physics."

There was a pregnant pause.

"WE MUST GET YOU THESE SPECIFIC CLOTHES. YOUR JIZZLE PHYGICS IS VERY DISTRACTING DURING TRAINING. I DON'T KNOW WHY."

To your credit, you tried really hard not to laugh, but Sans snorted and it was all over.

When at last you were calmed down, he asked another question.

"WHAT ARE THEY FOR?"

Desperately, you looked at Sans. Surely one of them knew about tits. "Um. So no one here...? Monsters don’t…?"

Sans shrugged. "i’ve seen ‘em in waterlogged magazines. not really much info down here about humans, and monsters bodies don’t seem to… need ‘em."

"Oh sweet tap-dancing Christ." You grumbled. "Ok. Settle in. I’m only explaining this once."

Papyrus looked enraptured. Sans was listening while looking around, pretending not to be fascinated.

"Humans use breasts to feed babies." You began.

"how the fresh hell does that--" Sans went to ask.

"When a human carries a child, their body changes and their.. breasts produce milk. To feed the baby."

"PARDON ME, BUT IS THAT UNCOMFORTABLE?"

"Having breasts can be very uncomfortable."

"I… I MEANT FEEDING A CHILD WITH THEM."

"I have no clue. I haven’t had a child."

It was noted that you looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"so why is it a big deal? cuz in those magazines they sure made them one."

You facepalmed. "That was probably a magazine… uh… meant for sexual satisfaction."

"no shit."

Papyrus raised his hand.

"Gods, no." You grumbled.

"IF THEY’RE MEANT FOR FEEDING CHILDREN, WHY ARE THEY ALSO CONSIDERED SEXUAL? DO HUMANS INTRODUCE CHILDREN TO SEXUALITY SO YOUNG?"

You held in a groan of despair. "I have no idea why they’re considered sexual. And no, we don’t. It’s not common practice."

He raised his hand again.

"Paps, no. Please. No more questions."

"BUT THIS ONE IS IMPORTANT."

You sighed. "Fine."

"... WHY DO YOU GET SO UPSET ABOUT HAVING BREASTS?"

You actually felt your face crack into a smile. "Why is that important?"

Sans stepped in. "i mean, at least around us, if you're uncomfortable and we could have helped somehow, it’s kinda dickish of us not to at least offer."

"You’re concerned with how I _feel_?"

"why not?" Sans met your gaze and you remembered the talk from the night before. Your soul was in a state, right? Was he trying to help it? Was Paps in on it or was he oblivious?

"NORMALLY I SUPPOSE I WOULDN’T CARE." Papyrus admitted. "BUT IF YOU ARE TO STAY UNDER OUR ROOF I MUST UPHOLD MY STANDARDS. I AM THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS-- THUS I AM A VERY CAPABLE HOST."

You decided not to push it. It didn’t seem likely. From what you knew of society down here, trust and camaraderie were hard to come by. If they wanted to treat you well, you had better not forget that kindness could come at a price.

You were silent for a while. "They just get in the way, and sometimes they hurt." You finally answered.

Papyrus looked like he wanted to ask another question, but he never did. You were relieved.

Lunch passed in silence after that.

 

* * *

 

At some point when you were off getting your third shower of the day, Sans and Papyrus sat on the couch together.

Papyrus was visibly deep in thought.

"i think they know we’re different, bro."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"

"we treat them like we needed to be treated."

Papyrus went quiet. Sans worried briefly that he’d made a mistake in bringing it up.

Sans’ worry turned to guilt when he heard his brother ~~absently~~ quietly respond. "It certainly explains a lot."

Papyrus stood up and walked to the kitchen. He had nothing to do in there, but he couldn’t stand being inactive.

Sans felt the past crawl across his soul, making him shudder. Papyrus never stood inactive, and Sans would never forgive himself for taking the luxury of inactivity from him.

 

* * *

 

“IF I AM TO LEARN HOW TO TAKE A HIT, SOMEONE MUST ATTACK ME.”

You were out of your element as you stared up at Papyrus. The hard glint in his sockets wasn’t intimidating anymore-- you knew he was a dork-- but you also knew he could destroy you if he really wanted to.

If you hit him, or even had the notion to, he would retaliate for sure, wouldn’t he?

That brought the biggest problem to the forefront: You didn’t know how to fight.

Tying someone up and slitting their throat was not fighting. Unnerving someone until they let you get close enough so you could punch them in the face and go past while they recovered from the shock-- that was not fighting, at least not in this sense.

You knew how to survive. It was all you knew how to do.

Fighting just to be fighting sounded exhausting. It sounded uncomfortable. And you were ashamed that you had no idea what you were doing.

You couldn’t possibly do this.

“i’ll do it.” Sans said.

“YOU CAN BARELY DENT A DOOR WITH YOUR ATTACKS, LAZYBONES.”

Sans was weak? It didn’t surprise you at all. He seemed a bit soft and unthreatening, jagged teeth aside.

“which means you’ll have plenty of practice not reacting.” He said. “and slake can tell you if you’re doing well.” Humans were dangerous opponents, after all. Just because you hadn’t killed a monster didn’t mean you wouldn’t on accident.

"BUT YOUR ATTACKS DO NOTHING!"

Sans gave you a look that screamed _help me out, here._ Papyrus followed Sans’ gaze and saw how uncomfortable you were. He grunted. "I AM NOT FRAGILE! I HAVE KILLED DOZENS OF MONSTERS!"

"you’ve never encountered a human before. they don’t have to _want_ to hurt you to kill you. physical damage is different from magical damage." Sans explained.

"WHICH IS WHY UNDYNE TAUGHT ME HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT."

"years ago, paps. have you ever used it in real life?"

He shuffled, and Sans grimaced. "i know you can hold your own." He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t-- especially with you here."

 _i just don’t want to fail at protecting you again._ He sat down in a snowbank, his eyes trained on you.

Regardless of his apparent inability to do damage and your doubting his power, you still felt a chill from his gaze. You told yourself it was just the wind.

 

* * *

 

The brothers figured out quickly that you had no idea what you were doing. They exchanged very awkward glances but wisely said nothing.

The third time you tried to kick Paps and fell on your ass, he just picked you up off the ground.

"PERHAPS WE BOTH NEED TRAINING." He stated. You expected mockery, pity, a multitude of things, but there was only concern.

Sans walked at Papyrus’ side, looking up at you every few steps, as if trying to get a good read on you.

"I’m sorry." You said, and then bit your tongue.

"why?"

You didn’t know how to respond. For disappointing? For not being perfect? For not knowing this important thing, or not being a natural at it?

“YOU HAVE NO REASON TO BE SORRY.” Papyrus said. It sounded like he’d said that many times before.

“So… is this the end of training?” You asked morosely.

“OF COURSE NOT. FOR TODAY, YES, BUT WE WILL RETURN TO IT TOMORROW. I MUST MAKE A LIST OF EXERCISES AND TRAINING SCENARIOS TO QUICKLY GET YOU TO MY LEVEL OF COMBAT!”

You shrugged in his arms.

“DON’T TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME. IF ANYONE COURAGEOUS OR EVEN JUST _SKILLED_ ATTACKED YOU, YOU COULD BE KILLED.”

You shrugged again.

Papyrus growled in his chest but the rest of the walk home was silent.

 

* * *

 

While Papyrus cooked dinner he thought deeply. You and Sans were watching the Games on television, where Mettaton abducts Conspirators against the Crown and forces them to play games for their lives. There were no winners.

The world out there was not simple, nor was it pleasant. Even here in Tundra it was every man for himself. He and Sans had gotten by fine, though, with the help of Grillby.

Sometimes one could hardly know that though. Over time, Grillby became listless, and focused his attention on growth. Money is useless without something to buy, but Grillby didn’t care. The struggle of surviving for the sake of surviving was tasteless, but nothing seemed to fill that ache for some excitement or emotion. Today had been the most emotion Papyrus had seen from Grilby since they were young.

It must be a common trait with monster veterans, Papyrus mused. Not that he’d met many.

He shivered and forcibly redirected his thoughts.

There would be time to dwell on the past when there wasn’t food cooking in front of him.

 

* * *

 

You wondered what Papyrus would look like in a frilly apron. Only when Sans cracked up did you realize you’d thought aloud.

“shit, i hope you stick around. you’re more entertaining than the tv, not that it’s sayin much.”

“Thanks.”

“but hey. about today.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you, unless you give me a reason to.”

“not what i was getting at.”

“I know you don’t trust me. I’m human, and I’m guessing I’m somehow dangerous.”

“emphasis on _somehow_.”

“I don’t--”

“you know _exactly_ what i’m talking about. you don’t have to tell me anything-- you just remember that-- but i wanna make a few things clear.” You looked at him, and realized that he could definitely appear frightening if he wanted to.

“first off: whatever they did to you, it wasn’t your fault. secondly: the past is the fuckin past. you’re safe now, and if you’re not, we’ll die trying to make it safe. third: you don’t owe _anyone_ an apology. you don’t owe anyone _anything_. but! and get this, because it’s important.”

He made sure you were paying attention. “you owe _yourself_ enough to keep struggling. after all the shit you’ve beaten, done, and sacrificed… don’t just give up or settle. _fight for it._ ” He smiled. “ok. think i’m done for tonight. i’ll see ya in the morning, slake.”

He didn’t wait for you to respond, disappearing before your eyes.

You wanted to ignore his words, but something told you he wasn’t talking from the yoga-and-granola-lady standpoint.

Maybe it was that the idea of Sans being the yoga-and-granola type was ridiculous, or maybe it was the inkling you had, ever-growing, that maybe he knew what to say for a reason.

 

* * *

 

You and Papyrus ate on the couch silently, watching the tv.

"This is really good." You said after swallowing a mouthful that had been entirely too ambitious.

"OF COURSE IT IS." He responded, but you could feel him glowing.

You went to open your mouth. Papyrus interrupted you. "WE WILL BEGIN AGAIN IN THE MORNING."

"Is that… a way of saying goodnight, or…?"

"IT MEANS I STILL HAVE FAITH IN YOU. IT IS A MUTUALLY BENEFICIAL SITUATION NOW. I LEARN FROM YOU, AND YOU SHALL LEARN FROM SANS AND I."

"Why not just learn what you can from me and then kill me since I’m weak? Didn’t one of you say human souls are valuable or something?"

"STRENGTH IN NUMBERS." He responded. "GET SOME REST. AND… REMIND ME TO INVESTIGATE PURCHASING THE… JIGGLE. PHYSICS. CLOTHES." He said it very carefully and then looked at you as if to ask if he said it right.

You nodded. It was quiet for a while.

"WHEN I WAS YOUNG, I WAS VERY SICK. IT IS VERY DANGEROUS HERE… ESPECIALLY FOR A SICKLY CHILD… _BUT I GOT BETTER_." There was steel in his voice. You didn’t ask why. "BUT EVER SINCE THEN I’VE FOUND IT DIFFICULT TO SPEAK CLEARLY. THE WAY I SHOULD. IT IS VERY FRUSTRATING."

You nodded. "Sans doesn’t seem to know it hurts your feelings, does he?"

"MY FEELINGS ARE THE LEAST OF MY CONCERN. IT DAMAGES MY EGO. MY IMAGE. IT INFURIATES ME MORE KNOWING I HAVE DONE IT-- SANS’ LAUGHTER DOES NOT AFFECT IT."

He paused, and you noted he played with his fork while he spoke, lowering his voice. "IT WAS HARD FOR SANS TO LAUGH BACK THEN. SOMETIMES IT STILL IS. I TRY TO ABIDE HIS JOKES AND HIS ENJOYMENT OF MY FRUSTRATION BECAUSE IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE IT WASN’T A FUTILE STRUGGLE."

You had to admit, you were surprised he was exposing this much depth to you. Of course, you could just leave him be about it, or--

"Why are you trusting me with this information?"

He let out a soft _hmph_ and took a bite, chewed and swallowed before answering.

"IF WE HADN’T HAD EACH OTHER BACK THEN, WE WOULD HAVE DIED, ONE WAY OR THE OTHER. YOU HAVE NO SUCH LUXURY, IT SEEMS."

"You pity me."

"I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU EXPERIENCED BEFORE YOU CAME HERE, BUT YOU… HAVE…" He trailed off and then sighed. "I DO NOT PITY YOU. I EMPATHIZE WITH YOU. AND JUST LIKE US, YOU ESCAPED. WHAT YOU DO NOW IS _YOUR_ CHOICE."

He smiled at his plate. "I SUPPOSE MY POINT IS THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO FACE THAT ALONE. WE WERE LUCKY NOT TO HAVE TO."

You didn’t respond. Dinner continued, but the silence was comfortable, though it was occasionally interrupted by bloodcurdling screams from the tv.

Kindness usually had a price, you remembered. But, glancing at Papyrus, you smiled. Whatever the price, you figured you could afford it. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, uh, the next chapter will have some sexual content. But a lot of introspection. 
> 
> For those of you who have not read Soul-Searcher, this is an AU of it, with the same Reader character. The stuff that Grillby said, as well as a huge amount of other stuff, is explained at length in that fic, though I will eventually explain it in this one as well.
> 
> I wrote an Alphyne confession-fic that takes place in this particular AU, so if anyone's interested, look for it in the "Inspired" links! it's called Obligation, and was inspired by a song.


	3. Unslaked Thirst *

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's unwind a bit, and confront some strange thoughts concerning our hosts, the skelebros.
> 
> (Warning for NSFW themes presented in this chapter: Masturbation, sexual tension)
> 
> (To avoid the NSFW content, skip the section enclosed between ***. Summary in end notes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUO UPDATE! this story and Always In Threes have been updated now!
> 
> I know the chapters are shorter than I usually post, but i'm doing my best. Work and personal life has been shitty lately.
> 
> GET READY FOR SOME TENSION!

The light of snow lit the room through the window behind the couch you were laying on. Everything was quiet. You were entirely alone… and you couldn’t sleep.

You hummed in frustration to yourself, listening for any sign of life as you weighed your options. As awkward as it was, you knew masturbating would put you out like a light. Without a doubt.

But, on the other hand… you were in someone's house. On their couch. At any point in time, you could be walked in on.

You chuckled. Would either of them know what they were looking at? Probably not, you mused. You made your decision. Why not? After all, you needed to sleep.

Your hand drifted down your body, under the boxer shorts you’d been lent, and you teased at yourself briefly. Hell, you realized, you weren’t sore for the first time in so long. Your hand stilled as you realized why that was. You didn’t have to live with that anymore. No more cuts, no more burns, no more kicking and clawing and…

You turned your face into the couch to hide your tears. Who were you hiding from? For once… it was just you. Only you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept alone, aside from the night before. It was so strange, but the emptiness you expected from sleeping alone wasn’t there. Just peace. You were _safe_. And by the gods, if you wanted to express yourself through sex, even if it was just with yourself… you had that right.

Your smile was hesitant, your touches gentle as you resumed. _This is so weird._ Your eyes darted to the doors to the brothers’ rooms, and your smile hitched at one end as your touches roughened. It was weird, yes, but you were kind of excited, and not because the doors were some pretty hard wood.

You never guessed you would be excited at the idea of being caught.

You shifted on the couch and the oversized shirt bunched up around your shoulders, and the friction of the couch raised the shirt up, exposing your midriff. You wondered if you should just continue to touch under the boxers you were borrowing, or if you should pull them at least down your thighs.

You stopped for a moment. So yeah, you were turned on, but… now what? You almost laughed at yourself when you remembered that you hadn’t exactly been able to do this in… months, if not years. Ko had always left you too raw to touch, and if he caught you doing so, he would make you do so as a show for him and take what he wanted from you as the act went on.

You grit your teeth and turned your head again, face meeting the fabric of the soft-spun shirt. The shirt was clean, smelled like the house, but stronger. Which brother had lent the shirt again? Papyrus hadn’t said whose it was, just that it was clean and fresh from the laundry. In any case, it soothed you, reminded you that you were, for the moment, safe.

Yes, you reminded yourself, drawing in another breath against the shirt. You were safe, warm, and… respected. Your mouth quirked as you fought a giggle at that. When had you last felt any sort of power, any sort of respect from anyone?

You decided to experiment a bit, to distract you from your thoughts more. With your free hand you touched your chest. You didn’t always like to acknowledge that you had breasts, but they were there, and when you tweaked your nipple you had to bite your lip to not make noise.

Maybe it was your imagination, but neither of the skeletons had seemed too surprised at the sexual connotation of breasts. Did he find it sexy and not understand why, or something? Secretly, you were thrilled. Even if he’d been admiring a part of your body you didn’t always like to admit existed, there was something quite satisfying in thinking someone found you… alluring.

Did monsters even experience sexual attraction? From Papyrus’ questions earlier, and the input Sans had given, you could only guess. But the way he’d stared at you so curiously, and beyond that…

There was an innocence to Papyrus, yes, but there was also a hidden depth to him in that… that hard look in his eyes had thrilled you.

When he’d picked you up to carry you to the house, your heart had been hammering.

He was getting into a habit of packing you around like that, and you were hard-pressed to mind. The idea of his strength made you gasp against the cloth again, softly, as your touches renewed. You remembered looking at his skull, marveling at how he could almost pass for a human skeleton, aside from the startling sharpness of his teeth.

You wondered how sharp they’d be against your flesh and reeled yourself in hurriedly. You brought your attention back to the memory of his gentle handling of your arm, checking to see if he’d interfered with its healing from the previous day’s breaks. The gentleness had clashed so severely with both his countenance and his fighting style.

Your skin actually kind of ached at the memory of his touch. Damn, you needed to get a grip, you were panting now, your hips twitching as you pressed further into the absolutely awkward fantasy. Of all things to latch onto in this moment, why was it a lanky skeleton who didn’t know what sex was?

You let out a low hum as you approached your climax. Your breath caught, couch creaked-- “Mmmngh…. P-pap--”

The door opened and you froze in horror. Papyrus came out of his room, still in his armor, the black pants riding low on his hips as he sauntered down the stairs slowly without looking at you. He went into the kitchen and grabbed milk from the fridge. Heart pounding erratically, you quickly extricated yourself from your….situation, turning your back to him and pretending to be asleep.

He audibly chugged the milk and you tried harder to calm yourself down. Fuck, you’d been so _close_ though! Your need almost made you whine with aggravation when he seemed to just be lounging in the kitchen. Was he going to be in there all night?!

You grumbled internally but felt a bit guilty. The fact of the matter was you almost got caught masturbating on a stranger’s couch-- and oh, god, the realization hit you that you’d almost _moaned his name_.

Movement. He was walking, but you heard him hesitate, heard the noise of the TV turning on. _Are you fucking KIDDING ME?!_ You screamed internally as you felt him sit down in front of the couch. You considered kicking him in the head but you didn’t want to hurt your foot.

God, what you wouldn’t give to go to sleep right now.

 

* * *

 

He had heard the shuffling and had gotten up from his computer, shutting it off so that he could hear over the ungodly din of its whirring. Whatever that shuffling was… was it an intruder?

You were sleeping out there! He stood in front of the door for a moment, trying to figure out a game plan, when he heard it. “P-pap--”

He opened the door and stepped out, immediately sensing tension in the room and after a moment of still thinking there was an intruder, he figured out it was coming from you. The room smelled like you, but also heavy, and… musky? You were so pointedly not moving that he could tell you were awake…

He tried to speak, but his voice deserted him. He felt absolutely parched, for some unfathomable reason.

You continued to not move as he descended the stairs, still trying to figure out if someone else was here. Maybe he’d misheard you? Maybe everything was fine? Why did you smell so strongly?

He had always had some trouble with his eyesight, to be fair. ~~In fact, he remembered his reading glasses were missing again.~~ Maybe he just wasn't seeing you right but you certainly didn't look comfortable in that position. Vision aside, his other senses compensated his vision troubles. From where he stood in the living room, between the couch and the doorway to the kitchen, he could hear your heartbeat. Yes, you were definitely awake. Or having a nightmare.

He continued to the kitchen and bent into the fridge, squinting past the glare. He heard the couch creak and when he emerged holding the half-gallon jug of milk (or what was left of it after the day’s cooking), he noticed you’d relaxed on the couch-- at least somewhat. The tension was still in the air.

He chugged the milk, but still felt funny. Not as thirsty, but…

You were still trying to pretend to be asleep. _Why_ were you pretending to be asleep?

You were being strange. Were all humans like this?

He should be going back to bed. There was no danger here.

Still, he hesitated. Perhaps if he stuck around, he’d figure out what you were doing? He was curious-- fascinated, even-- with what it was you’d been doing, why you’d been doing it, and why you’d stopped.

He sat down in front of the couch, his bones creaking more than he’d like them to, and he turned on the tv. You shifted your feet away from his head.

Well, he noted that you were quivering again, but the smell from earlier was mostly gone.

After one episode of _Water-Hell: Drown in the Dust of Your Comrades! (Season 56)_ , Papyrus could tell you’d fallen asleep. He was mildly disappointed, but admitted that you needed to sleep anyhow.

What made your heart rate do that? He wondered. What was this reaction and could it be replicated?

He’d figure this out eventually.

 

* * *

 

You woke up blearily. Frustrated. Anxious.

The sound and smell of frying bacon-- or something akin to it-- caused you to resurface as your stomach violently screeched at you.

You managed to stumble your way into the kitchen, and were surprised when Papyrus turned to fix you with a studious, intense stare.

"YOU LOOK TIRED." He stated, bending to where he was eye level with you but still managed to loom. "AND AGGRAVATED."

His face was _way_ too close, as if he were trying to solve some kind of riddle written on you. You pushed him away and scowled.

"Hmph." He grunted under his breath. _I BELIEVE I’M ONTO SOMETHING._ He thought.

 _I wonder why I look tired and aggravated, Paps._ You thought bitterly, sitting on the counter because you knew it annoyed him. _Maybe it has to do with something you interrupted._

"TABLE." He said, handing you a plate. You sighed and followed him to the table.

"Where’s Sans?"

"SLEEPING." He said, settling down with his food and the newspaper. He flipped it open with one hand as he shoveled an entire egg into his maw with a fork. He chewed quietly, to your relief.

You ate hesitantly. You kept your eyes on him as you ate, leading you to almost stab yourself in the cheek with the fork.

He wasn’t even marking on (what you assumed was) a puzzle. He was just grimacing at it. Intently. What the hell was he looking at with that face?

His hand not holding the paper propped his head up. He looked to be clutching his cranium. He growled, low and deep, like an animal.

You gulped, but internally shrieked. Sure, you were slightly frustrated, but hearing a growl shouldn’t turn you on _this hard_.

You wrestled your libido for a few moments. _Down. Please. Libido OBEY! The power of Slake COMPELS YOU!_

Papyrus looked up at you, that intent expression never fading. You pointedly stared at your plate and ate quickly.

He looked back to the paper, pretended to read it-- he had to pretend because his glasses still hadn’t turned up. He was going to have to rip the couch apart to find--

Your fork clattered against your plate and you got up, still chewing. You grabbed your dishes and marched to the sink-- and just looked up at it.

As he watched, you darted a look back at him, grimaced and then _tried to hop_ to put the dishes into the sink.

 _SO IT IS A MATTER OF DIGNITY._ Papyrus chuckled and got up.

You squeaked indignantly when Papyrus’ hands grasped your hips, and then almost screamed when he lifted you effortlessly. Somehow you didn’t drop the dishes but--

His hands were traveling up your waist as gravity tried to claim you. He was taking your shirt with him. You thrashed a bit.

He grunted, adjusting his grip and suddenly you were even higher and-- holy shit, he tossed you up and was supporting you by your thighs!

Specifically, your _upper_ thighs. Your brain short circuited. _Those are some LARGE hands! And they’re RIGHT NEXT TO MY CROTCH!_

Meanwhile, Papyrus noticed your immediate reaction, but wasn’t sure why exactly you had stiffened in his grasp and frozen, plate and fork tightly clenched in your hands.

Last night, you had been arching your thighs and hips off the couch, if he’d seen correctly. He hadn’t been sure at the time, with his vision not being the best.

His thumbs wiggled against your inner thighs as he squeezed them. _IT HAS TO DO WITH THIS AREA, THEN._

You squeaked and threw the plate into the sink before squirming in an attempt to escape. You flinched, expecting to be harmed-- but luckily the plate didn’t break.

_THEY...? SQUEAKED???_

You would be impressed with how steady his grip was, and how it didn’t hurt-- but you were too busy thinking in dial-up noises and trying to nosedive at the ground.

_DOES THIS MEAN…?_

You finally exhausted his grip, or so you thought, until you realized he’d settled you against his chest. Your feet still dangled but you could get down now.

You lingered, mostly from shock. There was an odd feeling emanating from his chest under all that armor. You should not have calmed down this quickly.

You _definitely shouldn’t feel so safe in this position!_

Your head rested with a light _thump_ against his chest, and you swallowed hard when you realized your ass was cradled perfectly against his pelvis.

Did you want this? Masturbation was one thing but--

You could say no. _Say no._

You swallowed again and opened your mouth but no sound came out.

"fuck, did i miss breakfast?"

Papyrus gently set you in your feet, holding you steady by your shoulders. You were secretly glad he did, because your legs threatened to give way, though you weren't entirely sure why.

He hadn’t meant it, had he? Of course not. He didn’t know _anything_ about your body.

Had you wanted him to?

You leaned against the counter and stared at the floor, unwilling to look at either of them. You were pale, with the expression of a dead man.

You didn’t hear the conversation. You could only hear the deafening silence within you.

What _did_ you really want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (NSFW SUMMARY: Slake decides to masturbate so they'll be tired/relaxed enough to fall asleep. Fantasizes a bit about Papyrus, remarks to themself about feeling safe and respected. At the worst possible time, Papyrus hears something going on and gets up to investigate. He doesn't see much, but knows something's going on. He decided to stay in the living room to figure out what was going on. Slake goes to bed unsatisfied and anxious.)


	4. Similar Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sans get some talk time, Papyrus looks for his glasses, and you are incredibly sexually frustrated.
> 
> Maybe some stuff in between.
> 
> WARNING: HEAVY THEMES ARE EXPLORED IN THIS CHAPTER INCLUDING: Child abuse, implied abuse of varying methods, death and murder, homelessness, desperation, sickness.... 
> 
> I don't go into explicit detail, because a lot of that stuff affects me, too. Please be mindful of your limits and don't harm yourself by reading something that makes you uncomfortable!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, looks like I'm back to updating fairly regularly! I'm having a lot of fun with this fic-- and I hope you guys have fun with it too! Get ready because I'm already halfway through the next chapter too. 
> 
> (i write the chapters on my breaks at work. i have no internet connection on my phone and so have literally nothing else to do. IT PUTS ME IN A GOOD MOOD WHICH IS GOOD. sometimes it's literally the highlight of my day.)

Sans had stood there in the doorway that morning for a moment, because of the weird noises and the sound of a dish being hurled into the sink.

At first, he’d been surprised and highly amused at the scene playing out in front of him, but beyond the initial flare in your soul, of Strength and Will, suddenly it plummeted. He decided whatever was going on just needed to stop.

He made his presence known and pretended to not be wide awake. He tried to study you, but you were absolutely absent. Deep in thought. Listless.

You ate in silence, you walked in silence, you trained almost entirely in silence-- and even when the time came for you to put your training into practice, there was no force behind it. Papyrus seemed disappointed. He didn’t understand what had changed, or why-- he could only assume he’d done something wrong.

You stated that nothing was wrong when you noticed the brothers’ worried looks. After lunch, you told them you wanted to explore a bit, that you wouldn’t leave Tundra. The brothers heartily discouraged you from leaving alone. It irked you for a moment, but you told yourself it was just because they didn’t want you dead.

Not everyone in Tundra was so nice, you recalled. On the way out to train, Papyrus had thrown someone across the town square when they tried to challenge you. You hadn’t even paid any attention to the attack itself, but you couldn’t help but stare at Papyrus for a moment.

It was like stepping outside the house made them different people. _Harder_ people.

But now you stared at the door. “Fine. I won’t go alone.” You said softly. “I just… want some air.”

Neither of them remarked that there had been plenty of air during your training session. Papyrus and Sans exchanged looks. “I THINK I HAVE CLEANING TO DO.” Papyrus said at last.

Sans shrugged at you. “you ‘n me, then.”

You nodded and headed for the door. As you opened it, you felt the heavy weight of Sans’ jacket on your shoulders. “need to get you one of these.” He remarked softly. “cold goes right through me, so don’t try giving it back.”

You couldn’t help the tiny smile that broke on your face as you stepped out into the snow.

“so you got a plan or are we walking aimlessly?”

“I don’t know. I want to see something nice. Something different. Quiet.”

“i might be able to help with that.”

“Don’t pull any of that bullshit with me.” You said sharply.

“what?”

“That shit where you disappear and reappear.”

He nodded. “gotcha. it’s, uh… one of those things i’m used to people being wary of.”

“Do you know how to get there on foot?” You asked.

“fuck yeah. why wouldn’t i?”

You let him lead you through the forest. Some monsters saw you and ran, others looked like they wanted to approach. No one gave you any trouble.

“you don’t talk much, even on your good days. i mean, not that you’ve been down here long enough to establish a pattern or anything.”

He was just talking to fill the silence, right? That was okay. You kind of liked his voice.

“if we’re too much or something, just tell us and we’ll try to dial it back a bit.” He continued.

“No problem.”

He grinned at you. For a moment there was amiable silence, but you could feel him dying to talk. “penny for your thoughts? that’s the phrase, right?”

“Yeah.” You thought for a moment. “I… I haven’t really talked much in years, honestly. What I said was always less important than what I should do. I was… especially afraid to talk in public, because if I embarrassed him, he’d wait until we were alone and then…” You sighed.

You expected questions. The “who, what, when, how,” and the slew of prying questions like “why didn’t you leave? Why didn’t you fight back?”

He didn’t ask.

You chuckled a bit.

“wouldn’t say it’s a laughing matter, slake.”

“I’m just surprised you didn’t--”

“i know. i might kinda know why.”

You smirked. “Because you can see my soul, right?”

“nah.”

You waited, hoping but not expecting elaboration. The two of you were approaching a plateau overlooking the forest, the cliff-face steep. There was a door, tightly shut. Sans sat down at the edge of the plateau, letting his legs dangle. You sat a little bit away, not trusting the ground enough. Sans was light enough to not cause it to crumble but you’d be damned if you fell to your death.

The two of you sat and watched the snow and dust motes float in the air.

“some stuff happened when we were little. he was… i don’t know. agh. well, there was this guy, and he made us. i mean, it wasn’t any kind of secret, really, but no one really remembers the guy himself. just what he made. he made the core, which gives us electricity. he made the lab in hothell what it is today. he made us, my brother and i.”

You waited. You could tell that Sans didn’t talk about this much, if ever.

“he wasn’t a father to us, really. we were made for a purpose, but we didn’t… really accomplish what he wanted. so he tried to kill us. there were these _things_ \-- these weapons-- that he’d made years before us, and they turned on him. gave us the time to escape. god, we ran so much, as far as we could.”

You thought about how the brothers acted toward each other. About the little they’d said so far. Slowly, this picture was coming into focus for you.

“we were in the capital, yeah? uh, it’s a few hours’ run from here. not too far from hothell. but it’s a long run for a couple of malnourished kids, especially since one of them could barely run without passing out.”

You would have figured that would be Sans, but you remembered Papyrus saying he’d been a sickly child.

“there was a guy who found us, and i expected us to die. i couldn’t run and leave paps. i stood my ground. when he didn’t kill us, i took a chance. i asked him to help my brother. i just needed him to live, and i’d do anything.” He was quiet for a while.

 _I GOT BETTER_. You remembered the coldness, the anger in Papyrus’ voice. You figured you could autocomplete Sans’ story, but chose to listen instead. He’d grown quieter.

“it... er… it worked for a while. i just… did what he asked me to. paps slept in the bedroom upstairs. he stayed locked in there, most the time. i kept it that way so he wouldn’t hear anything. i-i didn’t want him to lose his recovery because he knew what was going on. didn’t want him to blame himself. fuck, i never wanted that.”

Your heart actually kind of ached for Sans. He drew one of his legs up to rest his chin on his knee, letting the other leg sway over the chasm. “paps wasn’t happy, though. i told myself for so long that he didn’t know, that he couldn’t know-- but i know i was just lying to myself. i saw it sometimes. he’d unlock the door when he heard the… the crashes. he’d peek out and…”

You got up and came closer. You sat down, cross-legged next to him. It was a lovely view, but the howling wind didn’t quite cover what he said next.

“one night, he was… and paps… he was so small. he just. ran him through, pinned him to the wall directly above me. he was crying, and screaming, and i. i just stood there and got covered in dust, watching him as if, like… in third person, you know? i-i… he just grabbed my arm and drug me out. we ran again, and he told me he was better, that he was stronger. that it was okay, that i didn’t need to hurt anymore.”

There was silence.

“as irony would have it, i got sick. he carried me all through tundra. and then grillby found us in an alleyway. when i woke up, realized what paps had done, i attacked grillby for the things i thought he was doing to paps. i was going to kill him, but i was too weak and. i think i told you this, but grillbz is fucking ancient. i didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. heh.”

He glanced at you. “it took him a while to gain my trust. but it took me months to realize just… how badly i fucked up. with paps. i... me being a coward, not killing him myself, or finding a better way… it led to papyrus having to kill. for me.”

You threw an arm around his shoulder. He looked at you, surprised. Finally, he chuckled. “i won’t think too deeply into it.”

“Thanks.” You said.

 

* * *

 

Naturally, the two of you ended up in Grillby’s shortly after. You still couldn’t understand a damn thing he said, but he was certainly much friendlier to you than the other patrons-- though that didn’t say much. You and Sans ate in companionable silence, though you could feel him sizing up the other bar-goers. Grillby seemed to be doing so as well.

You weren’t used to this, and weren’t sure if it made you uncomfortable or flattered. You were feeling all kinds of weird emotions you couldn’t quite comprehend anymore.

The two of you sat there, enjoying the atmosphere while Grillby tried to speak so you could understand. He was failing miserably. It took too long to decipher what he was saying.

Sans reassured him that you’d come into your magic eventually, and he’d be surprised if you didn’t understand, then. You wondered what that really meant for you, but didn’t ask. Didn’t feel like knowing right now.

Apparently bringing you into the bar made Grillby happy enough to overlook Sans’ tab. You had a feeling you’d be in here often. It didn’t bother you, honestly.

After the bar, the two of you stopped by the Librarby. Sans explained the joke, which had you smiling. Sans finally told you. Until after Grillby took them in, Papyrus had barely been able to speak at all. Sans had started teaching him when they ran away.

Apparently Grillby was a pretty good teacher. And guardian. Sans admitted you were definitely special to have him on your side, considering he was a war veteran and would sooner boil a human into a crispy treat than smile at one.

"Why am I so special?" You asked finally, grabbing a couple books on magic and one on history. It couldn’t hurt, you decided.

"i told you, you’re some kind of relative to a few friends from the war. dunno how that works, though. i mean, you could ask him."

"Maybe next time." You said.

 

* * *

 

You had found a pair of reading glasses wedged in the couch and you tried them on, trying to read with them they weren’t doing you any good, but for some reason you felt like it would be funnier to wear them anyway.

Hell, with how few humans they saw, maybe you could Clark Kent/Superman the brothers.

Sans had a book on human anatomy and structure. It was in miraculous condition, honestly. He sat in the floor in his room, making a book-jacket for it.

When he was finished, he laid it where Papyrus would see it, on the table. In bright, hideous Comic Sans font, the new title "Puzzles for the Chronically Puzzled" was proudly emblazoned.

 _he’ll have it read cover to cover in no time._ Sans thought and left Papyrus to cook to his heart’s content.

Entering the living room, he found you sitting there, glasses on the bridge of your nose. You had your elbow braced on your knee, your hand cradling your face as you read over the top of--

"hey are those pap’s glasses?"

You shrugged. "They’re bent."

He chuckled. You looked up. "god that’s actually really cute though."

You cleared your throat and pointedly continued reading. You ignored the burning in your cheeks and the panic welling in your head.

Sans walked off. You refused to look up, spreading out on the couch, resting your back against the arm.

You were a few more pages in when you were called to dinner. You pinned the glasses to the neck of your shirt and got up and stretched.

Sans appeared too, walking in shortly ahead of you and then standing to the side, watching Papyrus carefully.

What was he anticipating?

Papyrus didn’t look up at either of you as he set the table, just reminded you both to sit down. It wasn’t until he returned with his own plate that he saw his glasses.

He froze for a second. They were clipped to your shirt, tugging it down at the neck. From his angle, he could almost see down your shirt. He cleared his throat and sat down.

 _JIZZLE PHYGICS._ The phrase was becoming his own secret curse. He pointedly tried not to stare at your chest again.

Dinner was delicious, and the unspoken tension was ruining it.

Once again, Sans had to break the deadly silence. “so, paps, did you find the book i left for you?”

Papyrus cleared his throat again and nodded, not looking up from his plate. “YES, I DID. THANK YOU FOR FINDING ONE I HAVEN’T READ YET. HOWEVER… I CAN’T READ WITHOUT MY GLASSES…”

You didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t dare try to snatch them off your chest. You were amused at the idea.

Sans sighed. “so i was thinking of heading out, having a social day tomorrow.”

“YOU SHOULD CEASE THESE ESCAPADES IN HOTHELL. IT ISN’T SAFE AND I CAN’T GO WITH YOU.”

“Why not?”

“I CANNOT BRING YOU THERE. RIGHT HERE, IN TUNDRA, GRILLBY IS IN CHARGE. HE’S LOYAL TO THE KING-- TO A POINT, OR SO I’VE HEARD. THAT IS WHY EVERYTHING IS SO LAX IN TUNDRA. THE MOMENT WE ARRIVE IN WATERFELL, EVERYTHING WILL… SANS, WHAT IS IT GRILLBY CALLED IT?”

“it’ll be a massive bloody thundercunt of a clusterfuck.”

“That is unnecessarily profane.” You said.

Papyrus laughed. “HE WAS INCREDIBLY DRUNK, AND WAS DESCRIBING THE WAR.”

“honestly, if he wasn’t exaggerating, it’s not a bad way to summarize it: almost everyone died and it was a massive, bloody thundercunt of a clusterfuck.”

“Please don’t say it again.”

“YES, SANS. SHORTEN IT TO ‘MBTCCF.’ IT’S MUCH CATCHIER THAT WAY.”

“No it’s not.”

“okok, sounds great, but we gotta pronounce it, not spell it.”

“How the hell will you--?”

“EMM-BUT-KKHHFF.”

“m- _butt_ -k’cuff.”

“Sounds like a seizure.”

“c’mon, try it.”

“I’d rather not.”

“YOU ARE DOING YOUR BEST NOT TO LAUGH. JOIN US!”

“I hate both of you.” You said, giving into your laughter.

 

* * *

 

After dinner, you went to the bathroom for your third daily shower and when you came downstairs, Papyrus was searching around the couch for his glasses. You grinned maliciously and put them on. You lay on the couch, pulled out the book you’d started earlier, and set to work reading while he watched.

He was torn, if he was honest. You certainly wore them better than he did. _W-WOW, IT’S… CONFUSING??_

Was it because you were also wearing one of his shirts? There was something that felt very strange and very… nice. He didn’t know how to identify the feeling, so he decided to grab his other book and read it tonight--

But to do so, he’d have to take his glasses back.

He snapped out of his thoughts to see you peering over the glasses at him, an eyebrow quirked cheekily. “What’s up?”

You were in a good mood as well. The warmth in his bones dialed up a bit. It was so different to see you so at ease.

“You gonna go read?” It was the word _go_ that made him straighten his posture. You took the glasses off and extended them to him. “Go read. Night.”

He grabbed your feet.

“What are you doing.” You didn’t even sound inquisitive, just absolutely unbelieving.

“READING.” He said, sitting down and placing your feet back on his lap.

You sat there for a moment. “I mean, what if I want to go to bed?”

“SLEEP WELL. YOU ARE SAFE.”

You facepalmed.

He was reading and didn’t comment.

_Puzzles for the Puzzled. More like Clues for the Clueless. Shit, I’m gonna have to sleep on this again. He must know. That’s why. He doesn’t want me doing that on his couch._

You bit your lip and snuggled down into the couch. Papyrus helped you straighten your blankets.

You expected to be uncomfortable, or even wary, but you were surprisingly relaxed. The sound of turning pages was comforting somehow-- and the weight of his hand over your calves made you feel inexplicably cozy.

And safe?

Goddammit, you were still frustrated. You’d just have to do it in the shower next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought this chapter was funny, wait till next one! it's gonna be amazing because we're gonna do some talking to ALPHYS!


	5. Got Your Goat, Kid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EXPOSITION AND COMEDY YES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello yes, i have a chapter. and another, i think. i've been continuing to write on my breaks and it's been paying off spectacularly.
> 
> Im in a dire financial situation right now, so i'm probably going to be opening some kind of coffee?? thing??? a friend has one and i'd be happy to write drabbles for a couple dollars.
> 
> Im also going to be spending my weekends researching quilt materials so i can make quilts on my days off. maybe sell them for a nice price. if i do custom embroidery (which i excel at) I might be able to make a lot of good money. also have my eyes on a tattoo kit-- and some guys i work with said they'd hire me on some tatts, so... i mean, i know how to do it well and safely, just haven't done it in 9 years. just gotta get back in practice, yah?
> 
> if you are interested in commissioning me for voice acting, covers, writing, or such... hit me up? im... kinda struggling.
> 
> whether you follow me or not, are interested or not, love you guys anyway. thank you for reading my stories. ^.^

When it came to fighting, you were a slow learner. However, if there were no onlookers, the three of you enjoyed yourselves during training.

Perhaps a bit too much.

Paps had been mesmerized by jiggling at one point, and you ended up getting hurt. Realization dawned and he practically flew to where you lay. As he knelt by you, in the middle of his demanding if you were okay, your fist snapped out, connecting with his teeth and making him grunt. You tried to push yourself off the ground but he was already carrying you.

Sans was about to piss himself from laughing. Papyrus was not amused, and so, as he carried you toward the house, when he passed Sans, he carefully raised his leg and shoved him over with his boot. Sans continued to laugh, face-first in the snow.

"You can heal me here and we can keep going." You said once you were out of earshot of Sans and his excessive howling.

"YOU ARE SHUDDERING BUT YOUR BODY IS NOT COLD. YOU SHOULD TAKE A BREAK."

"Paps, I’m fine."

"TOO RISKY."

You sighed and relented. It wasn’t too bad being carried. "Did my punch even hurt?"

"YES YOU BROKE A FEW OF MY TEETH AND NOW I WILL FOREVERMORE BE A PAPYRUS OF MANY WORDS BUT FEW TEETH."

You cracked up. "It’s hard to tell you’re being sarcastic, aside from you still having your teeth."

"YOU DID WELL." He said. "I AM JUST SUPREMELY POWERFUL."

You giggled again.

Sans met both of you at the door, still snickering.

"It wasn’t _that_ funny, dude."

"you have no idea."

"I guess I don’t. Get the door."

"nah."

Papyrus growled and managed to open the door with his magic. You hummed thoughtfully. "Damn, that would make grabbing all the grocery bags at once _so_ much less awkward."

"two trips are for humans." Sans said.

"Fuck off."

"SHUT UP, YOU’RE BOTH PRETTY."

Sans let out a noise that you wouldn’t have expected, both high-pitched _and_ loud-- followed immediately by a snort.

"Seriously, I’ll have what he’s having."

Sans just sighed contentedly after his laughter subsided. Shit, he realized he’d been in a great mood all day. He’d slept well last night, he just…

He’d _talked_. He shrugged. "just feelin’ lighter, i guess. in good company."

You and Sans exchanged looks and your smile hitched at one side.

"AS TOUCHING AS THIS IS, LET’S RESUME THE MOMENT INSIDE BEFORE THE HEATING COSTS SKYROCKET."

Everyone agreed and as soon as Sans got out of the way, Papyrus came inside and darted up the stairs, depositing you in front of the bathroom door.

"RELAX BUT PLEASE DON’T BE IN THERE ALL DAY. WE HAVE MUCH TO DO TODAY!"

"Like what?"

"YOU ARE GOING GROCERY SHOPPING WITH ME. I CAN’T WEAR MY GLASSES IN PUBLIC AND SO I NEED HELP READING THE PRINT."

"What about Sans?"

"HE HAS TO GO DO SOCIAL THINGS. WHATEVER THAT MEANS."

Looks like the shower "relaxation" you had in mind was a no-go.

 

* * *

 

Sans sat across from Alphys. "So it’s t-true, right? Not an-another of your tricks?"

Sans had to play this carefully. In the past, conveniently, he’d pranked Alphys multiple times by making it look like a human fell. She didn’t need to investigate if he could help it.

"i mean you’ll never know, unless you look." He goaded her, dialing up the irritating smile for her.

"Sans, y-you are the most ah- _aggravating_ \--"

"it’s nothing new, al. it’s just too much fun to tease."

Her eyes narrowed to slits behind her glasses. "Usually your tricks d-don’t stick around for so long… and they don’t spar with you and your brother."

"observation." Sans commended, somewhat sarcastically.

"This one’s real, and you’re keeping it to use against us." She punctuated this remark with a gesture as if to say _your move, asshole_.

Easy come easy go. He’d have to appeal to her sense of logic, then.

"you’re as paranoid as ever, al. if going against the crown was on our-- or grillby’s-- agenda, you wouldn’t see it that easily. we’re not so dumb that we’d advertise our aggression in the open."

That much, he didn’t have to lie about.

"Dumb enough to try, though?"

He shrugged. "what’s to gain?"

She sighed. It worked, he’d won this round. He always won. She enjoyed the challenge, and the fact that he was safe to be some approximation of herself around.

"So wh-what are you _actually_ h-here for?"

He put his shoulders up. "ya caught me." He said, smiling wider. "i’m bored."

"Are you? Why b-bother me, then?"

"you have weird shit i can watch instead of reruns of metta-tv."

"Point taken." Her voice was flat. She turned and started rummaging in a bin. Sans could feel her relax, and knew there were likely lasers focused in search of hostile magic.

As if he were stupid enough to try anything. His intent was _not_ to have Undyne breathing down his-- and your-- neck. Attacking her bondmate would be the stupidest move he could make.

He tapped his fingers idly as she continued to noisily throw shit around. "Does it need to be… um… safe for work?" She finally asked.

"the raunchier the better. i’m _that_ kind of bored."

"Gross. I d-did _not_ need to know that."

"oops." He chuckled. "to be fair, you asked."

"How are you on gore?" She asked, ignoring his previous response.

"see enough of it on tv."

"T-totally got you there. I’ll throw some c-comedies in, too." She said absently. "These animes should be r-right up your alley. Puns and nonsensical bullshit ab-bound. At least the animation budget’s ok though."

"sweet."

"M-make sure you say hi to your br-brother for Undyne, okay?" She thrust a tote-bag at him. "Now get the hell out before Mettaton comes for his oiling." She shuddered. "DO YOU KNOW HOW GROSS DUST IS IN MACHINERY!"

"gets everywhere, huh?"

"Yesss, it’s so disgusting, and he’s such a fucking drama queen!" She flopped gracelessly into her computer chair. "I suck at goodbyes. Leave."

"later."

"BYE!" She said and turned to throw something at him if he wasn’t already leaving. He was gone and she grumbled to herself.

Undyne would need to know about this visit, and she’d have to study some more of that footage.

 

* * *

 

While you and Papyrus were out shopping, Sans dove into one of the dirty animes. Five minutes in, he messaged Alphys.

 

* * *

 

You and Papyrus were shopping for over an hour when you noticed you were drawing more stares than usual.

"Paps." You whispered. "Why are they staring at me?"

You quickly-- but too late-- remembered he could not speak quietly.

"THEY ARE CONFUSED BY HOW MONSTROUS YOU FEEL."

What?

He must have realized you didn’t understand.

“I HAVE NOTICED IT, TOO. LATELY YOU HAVE… FELT MORE LIKE A MONSTER. MONSTERS CAN FEEL EACH OTHER. HUMANS DON’T FEEL LIKE MONSTERS-- THOUGH GRILLBY SAYS IT’S POSSIBLE FOR SOME HUMANS TO FEEL LIKE THEM… HE SAID HE DIDN’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT, SO I ASSUME IT WAS ABOUT THE WAR.”

“That’s… strange.”

“YOU SHOULD TALK TO GRILLBY ABOUT IT! HE’S VERY KNOWLEDGEABLE.” Papyrus looked around. “ACTUALLY, I SHOULD BE DONE SHORTLY. IF YOU WANT TO GO TO GRILLBY’S AND--”

“I can’t understand him.” You reminded him.

“PERHAPS…” He gestured to your hands. “MAY I SEE?”

“Uh??” You offered your hands despite your confusion.

He put your palms together with his hands holding them together.

“Wwwwwwhat are we doing?”

He grunted, and you figured he wanted you to be quiet. You looked around. Yes, there were people still staring, but they flinched from your gaze and moved on.

Warmth in your hands drew your attention back to Papyrus. He hummed pleasantly, and you felt the vibrations of his voice culminate in your hands.

You hummed, too, matching his tone, feeling the vibrations stir something fiery in you. Like indigestion.

Your fingertips began to tingle. Papyrus had stopped and now he cleared his throat. You looked up at him, saw him glaring at some onlookers. “I SHALL NOW CONTINUE SHOPPING.”

“Uh… what was that?”

Papyrus didn’t respond. You decided you’d ask him at home.

 

* * *

 

Sans sat in front of the door. He knocked, and waited for an answer. It never came. It had been rare to be answered anymore, but every time he assumed she would be dead, he’d hear her finally.

“i know you’re not there, lady… but i need to talk a bit. i uh… kinda miss ya.”

“That’s touching.” A young man’s voice said. “I didn’t take you for the type of person with feelings, Sans.”

This was new, but he couldn’t be surprised. “got a name?”

“Quit contacting my mother.” The voice said. “She’s happy now that I’m back. She doesn’t need you.”

Sans sat in silence for a while. “you’re a selfish prick.” He said at last.

“My mother, not yours.” The voice hissed. “Don’t come back.”

Sans thought of a million things to say, but mostly he just felt cold and empty. He got up and took a hesitant step away.

He’d never had a mother. But talking to the Lady for so long, he had felt like he could she could have been his. He thought about it often, how it could have been finding the Lady first.

He wondered how Papyrus would have grown up not having had to kill. He thought about how different they both would be.

He’d wanted to bring Papyrus out here, years ago, but Papyrus was having a hard time adjusting and Sans didn’t want to make things worse. _Again_. Now, he was both grateful and regretful that he hadn’t.

Papyrus would have liked her, he was sure. But right now, with her gone, he would have broken the door down in a rage and demanded to see her, to make sure this _asshole_ hadn’t killed her.

Fuck.

The dull crunch of snow under his shoes brought him back. He was absently pacing in front of the door instead of walking away. He looked at the door and considered breaking it down.

_that would take forever for me. i’d probably pass out before i even made a dent._

He twiddled his thumbs and thought as he began walking away. His soul hurt, and he growled at himself for being affected. He hadn’t really thought of how much it meant to him until now. Was he willing to give up on someone who made him feel like there was still hope?

He stopped walking. In the silence, he stood there, making himself breathe. Was he ready to give up someone he cared about, never get that closure, never know if she was even alive?

He went back to the door. “you still there?”

“Go away.”

“i will. can i ask a favor?”

There was silence.

“i... can you tell her i’m… _we’re_ okay?” He discovered with horror that his sockets stung. Was he tearing up? "can you swear she’s not dead?"

There was a tense silence, and Sans almost walked away.

“The human.”

“what about them?”

It was quiet. He was about to repeat his question, but-- “Did you kill them?”

“no.”

Something changed on the other side of the door.

“I’ll tell her, but only if you promise you won’t come back. She has trouble getting down the stairs anymore. It’s hard for her to come down here, so she sent _me_. She feels guilty. So quit coming.”

_she’s alive._

He found himself smiling. Hell, if this guy was her kid, he could believe she was aging. Maybe she wouldn’t be lonely anymore. Wouldn’t have to talk to doors for company.

"You’re still here."

"yeah." He replied, unsure how else to respond.

"Why didn’t you… kill the human?"

"what’s it to ya?"

He waited. Finally, "I… guess I expected you to..."

"why didn’t _you_ kill them? you know about them so i can only assume you threw ‘em through to get them out of your hair."

"I didn’t want Mom to see them. She would have tried to help… She wouldn't have wanted me to kill them, either."

At first, that pissed Sans off, but then he remembered what state you had been in. He thought about it, about how he would have acted. He wouldn’t have wanted to put the Lady in danger, either.

"yeah." He responded at last.

"Are they better?"

He shuffled, resting his weight against the door. "getting there." He thought of seeing you smile, of you in Pap’s glasses hitching your eyebrow at him as he stared at you like a goober. "they’re getting there."

The silence stretched. "I’d like to hear more sometime."

He snorted. "why? sure didn’t want my words earlier."

"You’re… not as bad as I thought you were."

He sighed. "sure. just… keep me posted on the lady, alright kid?"

He could hear a smile in the guy’s voice. "Sure."

"yeah, i’ll just call you kid, by the way."

Was that a snort? "Why?"

".... i mean, you said the lady’s your mom, yeah?"

"Oh. Yeah..." Did he sound disappointed?

Sans talked to Kid for a while longer until it became uncomfortable to keep shifting his weight from foot to foot. He made his excuses and went to leave.

"Sans, wait."

It was strange. He didn’t remember actually introducing himself by name, yet this was the second time Kid had said it.

"yeah, kid?"

"Don’t let them die."

"didn’t plan on it." He said, keeping the wariness out of his tone.

As he walked back to Tundra, he thought about everything.

Alphys and her cameras. Undyne’s inevitable investigation. Alphys would send assassins, he knew. For you.

And then this character behind the door. Sans' creator had never mentioned him. At the mere thought…

"no. no." He fought to keep his creator’s voice from popping unbidden into his mind. He succeeded this time, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

Right now, he craved the silence of his workbench. Today left much to think on. And perhaps, much to speak to Him about.

After all, He’d never spoken of you, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for sticking around guys. im drinking a bit to make this story even more fun. so i hope you enjoy ^.^


	6. Birds and the Bees?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby gives that sweet, sweet exposition. You give Papyrus The Talk. You have Magic?????
> 
> And of course, frustration.
> 
> (featuring a fun little recording i made just for you guys!)
> 
> ***SPECIAL NOTE!***  
> I HAVE A READER'S CHOICE THING IN THE END COMMENTS.  
> Do you want to effect what happens next? LOOK AT THE OPTIONS IN THE END NOTES and VOTE IN THE COMMENTS PLEASE!  
> Feel free to do so anonymously if you're shy! I promise I'm not an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally love grillby so fucking much, regardless of AU. Hope you guys love him too!  
> (and if anyone wants to commission a fell!grillby/reader fic or drabble....)
> 
> FEATURING:  
> A recording I made of me singing a song by ok go, alice and chains, seether... and an english cover of a vocaloid song by DECO*27. To hear the audio, you will have a link to click that will let you download it expressly from my google drive. It was the only way i could get it out there. too big to upload to tumblr, but i compressed it as much as i could. I had a lot of fun with it, and kept this chapter in mind while recording it. It's kinda funny ^.^  
> A drawing of Ashella I made a while back  
> A drawing by my buddy and fellow writer, butnobodycame (summerbxy on tumblr) of Pyric and Torbernite. Thanks again, my salty canadian bastard, for bringing them to life.

“So, I need to test this.” You told the bartender. “Papyrus says I should be able to hear you now.”

The crackling noise that followed was accompanied by strange, transparent features morphing into a dubious and amused expression. When he spoke, his accent washed over you, making you have to focus to understand. “What did he do?” Luckily he spoke slowly, his words heavy and voice thick.

“He. Uh. Made my fingers tingle? From humming?”

Grillby cocked his head curiously, his mouth splitting into a jagged grin as he laughed. “Sounds… like he sparked your magic. Like a child. How cute."

“Uh?”

“Did you feel a type of… resonance?”

You thought about it. “Uh. Kinda.”

“Did you hum back?”

“Yes.” You said.

“And you are, indeed, hearing me?”

“I figured that was obvious. Though, dare I say, I expected you to sound… more evil?”

He chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint.” He gestured to the barstool nearest him. “Do sit, and I will do my best to explain what has transpired. Where should we start? Your ancestors or today’s events and their implications?”

Your head spun momentarily. “Talk slower, please. And uh… I guess whatever.”

He looked at the other patrons, saw them intense in a poker game. If he was lucky, none of them would dust over cheating this time. Dust was a bitch to clean out of the cracks between the dark, polished hardwood slats.

“How much do you know about the War?” He asked, looking back to you.

“Nothing? Humans versus Monsters, right? Yeah, I know nothing.”

He hummed in thought for a moment. “Listen carefully.”

Grillby told the story of his youth, when he and King Asgore had been mere guards to the princess Toriel. A small group of seven humans were found wandering the territory, prisoners sent to their death. Instead, the group was taken in, nourished, trained-- and eventually, they were fully integrated into monster society.

“They were amazing warriors, but the real surprise came when they began to mate with monsters. It unlocked something in them, something very… frightening. They were mages, and their powers were all different. One of them stood out, however. She was the most powerful of them-- perhaps because she bonded with _two_ monsters.”

Grillby told you about the girl with the flame-red hair. Her name had been [Ashella](https://68.media.tumblr.com/7cad23d1a5cafc790a4194b877c17b8b/tumblr_ogxnkzorWS1vsxcqwo7_400.jpg), and she had been a ranger under the commander at the time who was a dragon named Pyric. Pyric’s brother, Torbernite (or Torby, for short) was a guard of the fortress affectionately named Foothold.

Ashella mated with both [Pyric and Torbernite](https://68.media.tumblr.com/aff75bb5c4e4078be6db476627d784fc/tumblr_inline_odos5ylDxm1t8j60d_540.png), giving her amazing powers. However, the other mages had conspired behind Ashella’s back. They initiated a raid by the humans on Foothold, and captured Ashella. She was thrown into a cage, starved, beaten… Grillby said he only knew this because her bondmates could feel her pain.

He trailed off. “Torby and Pyric left to look for her, to save her. They never came back.”

“So… they died?”

“It is incredibly likely.” He said, dismally. “But the fascinating thing…” He gestured to you. “Hundreds of years later, Ashella’s descendant would sit in my bar.”

The silence stretched for a moment. “Grillby… how do you know it’s me? How do you know that I’m her descendant?”

"Simply put, I can feel the remnants of Pyric and Torby in your soul. As for the rest? Call it a hunch. I simply cannot explain it. It’s a matter of… feeling."

That reminded you. "Uh, Paps said I was starting to feel like a monster."

He nodded. "Yes, you are. I’m proud."

"He also said it was possible for humans to feel like monsters?"

Grillby’s face twisted in a grimace. "Yes. I suppose that is true. But that is not what is happening here." He paused, thinking for a moment before finally continuing.

"During the war, there were… humans who had killed so many monsters that the dust had integrated with their makeup."

He saw your confusion. "We thought he was a monster, up until he started attacking."

You were silent for a moment. How many monsters would have to be killed to where you felt like one?

"You’re not like that." He said softly. "He was almost mindless. It was like a drug at that point. He kept licking the dust around his mouth, breathing deeply when..."

You let him trail off. You were unsure how to change the topic. He certainly seemed like he needed a less vivid mindset.

"How did you end up here in Tundra? It’s… a bit cold for a guy made of fire."

He nodded. "The cold hardly bothers me, but I stay in my bar unless I’m needed." He paused. "But the reason I’m out here..." He chuckled wryly.

"There was once a human child named Chara who fell down. For a few years, everything was fine, though there was certainly something… different, frightening about them. Over the years, however… perhaps we rubbed off on them, our bitterness towards humanity. But regardless, it didn’t end well. Two dead Royal children, the inevitable separation of our rulers…”

You nodded. But… where had you heard that name before?

“I was forced to choose between two friends. My allegiance is constantly in question. It is why I stay here in Tundra. In my bar. Where Asgore will not touch me. He knows I will always outrank him where it matters. There was a reason Toriel put me in charge of the Guard.”

He paused. “It’s why Undyne needed someone in the Royal Guard to overlook this area. They don’t trust me. They just don’t know that Papyrus and I are close.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yes. Papyrus is one of the Royal Guard. Trained by Undyne herself.” He paused and smiled proudly. “Though I suppose I gave him a head start.” He saw your look and rushed to continue.

“He acts on his own. He and Undyne haven’t spoken in well over a year. Ever since the alliance between Hothell and Waterfell, she quit checking up on him. It really bothered him at first.”

"Were they close?" You asked.

"I believe so. He… idolized her quite a bit. At one point in time, he would have followed her into battle… but he’s not as naive as he appears."

"What changed?"

"After the alliance between Undyne and the Royal Scientist, Alphys, anyone who spoke ill of Asgore or his affiliates were put to death, usually broadcast live on tv."

Wow that explained a bit about entertainment.

Grillby continued. "Neither I nor Papyrus want that for Tundra. And if Asgore does not have control of Tundra, Toriel is safe in hiding."

"Is she here in Tundra?"

"Of course not, or Asgore would have made his move decades ago." He looked around. Quietly, he continued. "When you fell down here, did you encounter… a goat?"

You snorted from the apparent randomness, but then you remembered. "HOLY SHIT, that’s where I heard it!"

He eyed you quizzically before glaring at the other patrons as they eyed you. He would worry about you if Sans and Papyrus weren’t watching over you.

Speaking of the devil himself. He felt the approach of--

"GRILLBY." The door rattled on its hinges.

"Papyrus." Grillby answered, cringing at the potential damage to his door.

"Slake." You said, glancing between them. "I’m here too."

"NYEH-HEH OF COURSE YOU ARE." He responded. "TIME TO GO. SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR ADOPTED FATHER."

"I thought that was a joke?" You eyed Grillby.

"I promised Torby I would be his children’s godfather. I can make good on it. A few centuries late, but the celestial shitwigs that locked us down here made sure to make it a challenge."

You had to digest that comment a second time. "Celestial…?"

"Fuck propriety, I’m bitter." He said.

"Hi, Bitter, I’m child?" You wondered if he’d get reverse-dad jokes.

Papyrus sputtered behind his glove and tried to mask it with a cough. "WE MUST GET HOME."

Grillby eyed the other patrons harshly and this time you followed his gaze. They were sizing you up.

Did they assume you were weak because you had a sense of humor? You burned at the thought.

"Slake, calm." Grillby warned.

You swallowed your words and followed Papyrus out of the bar. "Later, Fireball." You grumbled.

"Later, indeed." He said, eyeing the monsters. His tone made them anxious, and soonafter, they left the bar to escape whatever he had planned for ‘later.'

 

* * *

 

You were still pissed when you got in the shower yet again. Papyrus had challenged you to get out in time to help him with dinner.

You reminded yourself that it was likely for keeping the water bill in check.

No, it was for another reason you were angry and couldn’t shake it off. The look they had been giving you in the bar…

You turned the water on cold. You were unbearably hot. Shame? Rage? God, your skin was crawling with heat.

The water steamed but you were too busy sighing at the relief to notice. Your mind drifted in the contentment of the frigid water and you began to hum, basking in the acoustics.

Humming turned to [singing](https://drive.google.com/open?id=0Bz-_y2FLF5aOZWt3OXBWNmFUSjg).

You weren’t aware. The towel hanging next to the shower thrashed on the rack. The rug flailed and waved, eventually landing in the sink. Your clothes scattered across the floor.

And as you continued to sing, it spread. Outside the bathroom, in the hall, what looked like burgundy smoke drifted. Under the door it went, into Sans’ room, where it found nothing to disrupt that wasn’t already sufficiently trashed.

Papyrus’ room was _such_ a treat. Orderly, precise. After a few moments, it was carnage, and your magic drifted on.

You, at some point, started getting cold. Your anger was gone, and so you hastily made the water warmer. Hell, you realized, you had to hurry! Maybe one more song?

Papyrus heard you singing and smiled, but there was something near that was making him anxious. It felt like magic, but in a signature he didn’t recognize.

"OH." He looked into the living room, seeing the drapes twist chaotically. The tv began to turn on and off and the speakers hissed in a way Papyrus believed was meant for torture.

It was similar to when Papyrus had been young. Before he learned to control his magic.

"OH... _OH!_ " He darted past the smoke, careful not to touch it, shielding himself with his own. He sprinted up the stairs and banged on the door.

You let out an impromptu falsetto. "I’m hurrying! I’m hurrying, I’ll be right out!"

Should he tell you? What should he say? Should he ask Grillby to handle this? Maybe Sans? The two of them had helped him, after all.

You came out, still half-drenched, your clothes haphazardly thrown on. Your shirt was on backwards. "Sorry I took so long. I was sing--" you saw his face. "Uh. I should stop, shouldn’t I?"

"NOT AT ALL… HOWEVER…"

Nothing looked immediately bad. The drapes looked twisted and the tv was blaring static. The only thing out of the ordinary had been the rug in the sink.

It wasn’t enough to tip you off.

"ER… WE…" You had sounded so happy, though! He wished he had a mouth to bite in his nervousness. "I JUST HAPPENED TO THINK OF SOMETHING EARLIER."

You kept staring at him.

"I DIDN’T WANT TO FORGET. SINCE I HELPED SPARK YOUR MAGIC, SANS AND I SHOULD HELP YOU LEARN TO… CONTROL IT."

You nodded. "Yeah, that’d be awesome. Can I cast Magic Missile with it? Can I cast Fireball? Can I--"

"WE WILL HAVE TO SEE. I CAN ONLY ASSUME IT IS… AS IMPRESSIVE AS YOURSELF." Why was it so hard to just say words?

Your excitement was spreading to him and it confused him. You weren’t usually so animated. Had something happened to put you in such a good mood?

Was it him? Maybe it was just the excess of magic in your system? Maybe it was another example of rapid mood changes to be attributed to your trauma?

This was so confusing! He was hesitant to ask why you were happy, lest he ruin whatever spell was active here. He’d have to ask Sans. Sans would know; he knew everything.

 

* * *

 

He who knew everything, or so he was touted, was passed out cold, face first on his workbench. He snorted in his sleep and muttered under his breath.

He thrashed a bit and then was still.

On the surface, he was just an exhausted monster catching up on his sleep. He’d have a neck or back ache later, even.

However, when he snapped awake, his eyes were wild and more tired than they should have been. He didn’t move for a long while, but was so tightly wound with stress and anticipation.

This had been a kind of ritual for over a year now. Paying a price, he told himself, nothing more.

He wouldn’t bother Papyrus as long as Sans listened. He’d help Sans, even, as long as he kept searching for a way to bring some piece of Him back.

Sans sat there for longer than he thought. In the dull silence of his workroom, he didn’t dare disturb the air with his breath. He feared it would draw His attention again, and the agony he’d come to associate with Him.

He had to force himself up and out of the room.

He stood outside the door for a while, breathing in the stagnant air, the chill of the wind pummeling him. He wondered if it’d ever be strong enough to carry him off somewhere.

Where could he go down here, anyway?

It was getting late. He should get home.

 

* * *

 

Dinner had been quick and easy with both of you bustling around. However, every time you started to hum while you worked, Papyrus cringed.

It kind of hurt, but you stopped. Humans on the surface frequently told you to shut up. Perhaps Papyrus was just being nice to you.

Papyrus, meanwhile, was glad the pots were no longer stirring themselves vigorously.

He was feeling kind of proud of you, honestly. He could tell already that you had amazing potential. Your emotions and desires were obviously feeding you.

He decided to talk while preparation continued. He had some _burning questions_ anyhow. He just needed to find a way to not sound absolutely crude. “YOUR FLESH MUST BE VERY SOFT TO CUSHION YOUR FALLS AS IT DOES.” So far so good, right? “IT LOOKS WEIRD.” Shit. That sounded bad. “BUT IS IT COMFORTABLE?” Maybe you’d ignore that other part?

You were… Oh, thank fuck, you were _laughing_.

“I mean, I _guess_ it’s comfortable? It’s the point of flesh, I’d say.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re not soft to grind against…” You trailed off and then remembered he had no idea what you were talking about.

“I FEAR I AM STILL ABSOLUTELY PUZZLED.”

That was probably for the best. “It’s just a thing about humans. Just… Agh, you don’t want to know.”

“WAIT, WAIT! I HAVE READ ABOUT THIS. ARE WE TALKING ABOUT SEXUAL INTRASPERSE?”

“What the fuck is intrasperse?”

He paused. “HOW BADLY DID I MISREAD IT?”

“I think the word you’re looking for is intercourse. And yeah, that’s what I was talking about. But uh.”

“THE BOOK WAS VERY CLINICAL IN ITS OBSERVATIONS OF IT. IT SPOKE NOTHING OF SOFTNESS OR GRINDING. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW ANYTHING GRINDING COULD BE A GOOD THING.”

 _Don’t think about sex._ You begged yourself. “I mean, it’s a different meaning of the word than you’re probably thinking.”

“COULD YOU EXPLAIN? OUT OF CURIOSITY?”

Goddammit.

 

* * *

 

Sans came inside the house to hear you and Papyrus talking about human methods of sex. You were incredibly patient with him, but Sans delighted secretly in how hilarious the situation was. He tried to covertly listen in, as well. After all, not like he knew much about human sex.

You were still astounded that you were _talking_ about this. What, did you hope that by telling him what sexual stuff felt like and how to elicit that response that he’d stop torturing you? Or torture you more?

What in the figurative _fresh hell_ were you doing?

"THAT SOUNDS DISGUSTING." He said, fascinated, as you talked about it.

Hell, you hadn’t even told him about kinks yet.

You grinned. "I mean, yeah, it kinda is unless you’re doing it. Feels good enough you forget how gross it looks and sounds. Of course, it won’t feel good at all if you don’t want to do it."

He nodded. You’d pressed this point before.

"WELL, THANK YOU. I BELIEVE MY CURIOSITY IS SATED FOR NOW." He finally said when it seemed you had nothing left to add.

You laughed. "I guess it’s no problem?"

"NOW THAT YOU WERE SO DETAILED AND PATIENT, IT IS MY JOB TO HELP YOU LEARN YOUR MAGIC. AFTER DINNER."

_wait, what did i miss? and how do i get in on this without revealing i was listening the whole time?_

"SANS, COME HERE AND GET FOOD."

"Where is he?"

"TRY FEELING AROUND. I AM SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T NOTICE HIM WHEN HE CAME IN FEELING SO LOUDLY TIRED."

"That’s a thing?"

"YOU’LL LEARN TO BE IN-TUNE WITH OUR MAGIC RATHER QUICKLY, SINCE WE’RE ALWAYS AROUND. SO WHEN MY BROTHER SNEAKS INTO THE HOUSE AND EAVESDROPS ON OUR CONVERSATION, YOU’LL REALIZE IT."

 _fuck._ He teleported out of the house, but could still hear Papyrus talking.

"TELEPORTING AWAY IS INCREDIBLY MATURE, SANS."

Maybe he should just walk in and pretend none of that happened.

Too late. The door opened and you looked back at Papyrus joyously. "You were right! Wow, so. I can tell where you guys are if I just pay attention?"

Dismally, Sans muttered. "can tell where he is _without_ magic just by paying attention. he’s fucking loud."

You chuckled and pulled him into the house by his shoulder. "I understand, dude. It’s cool. Something new but embarrassing to ask about, right?"

"uh…" You weren’t mad or making fun of him?

"To hear Paps talk, you don’t like not knowing things. I mean, if this place is as bad as you think it is, I understand why. Not knowing things is how danger grows, right? So you probably listen to a lot of conversations at Grillby’s and stuff, just to keep up."

He stared at you. Goddamn, you could hit the nail on the head in a pitch-dark room.

"Only natural to see what we were talking about and be curious." You said. "Now get in here and eat.

It had been a long day, he realized. Food sounded _amazing_.

 

* * *

 

The lesson after dinner was taken on by Sans while Papyrus went out to do a quick patrol and write up a report to send to Waterfell. Sans explained he wrote the report every day but submitted them weekly.

Apparently, there had been a time, long ago, when he’d submitted daily, but Sans admittedly had no idea why it changed.

"So the person he reports to...?"

"ah, that’d be undyne. we call her the champion. used to be captain, but that was before the union between waterfell and hothell. there’s a colosseum out there now, between the territories. she allows people to challenge her, and it’s treated as a blood-sport. uh, i’m sure i don’t have to tell you she’s undefeated."

"Yikes."

"yeah, but paps looked up to her. they got along a bit, y’know? the way two dogs trying to look bigger than they are do."

You snickered. "So she stationed him here to keep an eye on Fireball?"

"heh, i wouldn’t be surprised. they’d be right to fear him. ‘cept for maybe ass-gore, he’s the oldest, toughest bastard down here. and if they went one-on-one, i’d put my money on grillbz."

You chuckled. "So he’s not exaggerating or anything?"

"not talking about his war stories. i’ve _seen_ him in action. fucker’s scary as hell."

You grinned wider. "That sounds fun to watch."

"kinda was. but i mean, that was back when paps and i were still young. he rampaged a bit because some asshole thought to use us against him, hostage style."

Sans laughed. "i coulda got out, but not with paps, and i wasn’t leaving him there. so i passed out wrapped around him to protect him, and woke up to the smell of burning dust."

"You make that sound like an especially fond memory."

"isn’t it, though? learned he could be trusted, and that he could keep paps safe if something happened to me. plus the guy’s a fuckin artist in a fight, ok? i dare say he was inspiring."

You nodded. "Still think you need happier memories."

He chuckled. "i feel like that’ll happen more as i go. things have been bad before, hell they were bad not long ago… but, uh, it’s been nice having you here. brings another _dynamic_ to us, i guess is the word."

"You just liked hearing me talk about sex. Don’t lie.”

Both of you laughed then, and sat there in comfortable silence for a moment. You glanced over at him, saw him looking back at you. For a while you studied each other’s faces, less out of curiosity and more as a way to figure out what you were feeling.

You didn’t realize you’d been gravitating closer to each other. Not by much, but when you saw, you pulled away and turned your gaze to the wall. "So, the magic."

"yeah, let’s get into that." He quickly agreed. "so, uh, let’s start with something little, alright? so you know what it feels like."

"Okay?"

"try, um… try making a light."

"........ How?"

"have you used your magic before?"

"No, I haven’t. It’s like telling me to flip a switch in a dark, unfamiliar room. I’m shit out of luck and need to at least know where the wall is to start with."

"ok, ok, chill out." He sighed. "ok so… uh, different types of magic are different to learn, alright? i have no idea what kind of magic you have. so i need to figure it out."

"How are you going to find that out?"

"it’d be convenient if you knew, somehow."

"Is there… I don’t know, _anything at all_ you could still teach me?"

"locating a nearby threat, identifying whether someone’s magic is hostile, picking a friend’s magical signature out of a group..."

"So no Magic Missile?"

"fuck, i wish. gotta take it one day at a time though."

"Magic Missile tomorrow?"

"maybe next week."

"Damn."

It was slow work, trying to identify the feeling of being near Sans, and when he readied an aggressive signature, it didn’t feel any different than normal for you.

That frightened the hell out of him.

After about an hour, Papyrus came back and Sans incorporated him into the exercise.

After a few minutes of Papyrus wandering around the outside of the house, you could tell a general direction of his presence. Not proximity or anything special like _they_ could do, but it was a start.

Papyrus was also worried that you couldn’t tell a difference between benign and malicious magic signatures. He vowed that it would be remedied soon.

With that, everyone started settling down for bed.

Well. As you figured, that meant everyone _except Papyrus_. Once again, your tall, cheeky friend was sitting at the foot of the couch reading a book, holding it with one large hand. His other hand, like before, settled on your leg, drumming rhythmically.

Honestly, there were worse ways to fall asleep, but you were getting incredibly cranky from being starved for what you had started a few nights before.

You didn’t want to admit it was easier to sleep when he was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO we have a few paths we can go.
> 
> THAT MEANS THERE IS A CHOICE TO BE MADE!
> 
> Vote in the comments which should be addressed first:  
> Gaster and all things Void  
> Grillby and all things Babybones  
> Sans and all things Hurt/Comfort (with some somewhat-sexytimes)
> 
> ALL OF THESE will eventually be addressed. I just want to know which one is most anticipated so I can reward you guys for enjoying my stuff!


	7. Discovery *

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discovering magic, sexuality, and other things!
> 
> Trigger warnings for: discussions, dreams, and memories of abuse. Sexual themes. Sans has a fear kink 
> 
> The brunt of the sexual content will be set aside with Asterisks, so if you don't want to read it, search *** to skip it once you reach it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In everything i write, Sans has a fear kink. i just find it really fun, but in this au, it's particularly insidious and sad. all the more reason to use it bc fuck it, abuse survivors can develop weird kinks like that. i know i did. 
> 
> Remember that all the references for abuse are from My personal experience. Slake's relationship with Ko is based entirely on things I actually endured, though Slake/Ko was more long-term than my own abuse situation.
> 
> Also! Big thanks to everyone who participated in the Choice! I took everything into account and did a bit of mixing. Next chapter will probably have more Grillby and we might broach the topic of Gaster. After all, we can guess that Sans has talked to him, right? Wonder where that will come into play.

You woke up one night feeling fingers around your throat and in your panic, _something_ happened.

You gulped air down as you struggled to calm yourself down. For the longest time, it didn’t work.

Just a dream. You weren’t going back to sleep.

Everything was quiet, but you could tell that you’d done something in your sleep. Little things were strewn across the floor.

You picked them up, head so quiet that it would have frightened you if you could feel anything. You pinched yourself, but other than the mild discomfort of inconsequential pain, you felt like nothing else existed.

Your senses felt like they were covered in wool, deadened and heavy.

You quietly left the house and looked around. You were only in a pair of Sans’ old basketball shorts and one of Papyrus’ tight-fitting (would have been) muscle tanks. Folded up over your upper torso, it moderately bound your breasts so they didn’t jiggle so much when you walked, and since Papyrus was so damn _tall_ there was a lot of material to fold up.

Regardless, it was nothing much in the cold. You didn’t even have socks or shoes on.

You walked through the snow toward Grillby’s. The lights were still on, and you figured it would set the brothers’ minds at ease knowing you were at least safe in your late-night escapades.

You didn’t feel like causing trouble. You were too numb to feel vengeful or any semblance of adventure.

Grillby met you at the door and when he saw your state, he ushered you in, clicking his flames at you in dismay, as if someone tsk-ing an errant child. You didn’t even feel peeved.

No one else was in the bar, and so you sat on a barstool while he cleaned tumblers. His movements were rhythmic and constant, and the flickering calmness and warmth of his flames helped unwind you, though you didn’t feel stressed.

You fell asleep like that at some point.

 

* * *

 

"They’re fine, Sans. Just needed some air, I think."

You swam into focus as you heard footsteps and mumbling.

A door opened near you and you lurched up, looking at them with your eyes wide and mouth set.

"yeah, air." Sans muttered, stepping into the room after Grillby. "slake, you scared me. woke up and didn’t know where you went. if grillbz hadn’t called me up a few minutes ago, i woulda thought someone _took_ ya."

You were silent, still staring, waiting for thoughts or at least emotions to come to you.

"i’m not mad… just relieved to see you’re ok."

You tried to smile but could tell by his response that it was obviously fake and likely very creepy. "I’m okay." You said, but didn’t have the energy to cringe when your tone was flat and lifeless. Not to mention it sounded so harsh, thick with sleep.

Sans and Grillby shared a look.

You cleared your throat, but your voice was still rough. "Sans, I want to spend time alone for a bit. Is there someplace where no one will bother me where I can just… scream and no one will hear me?"

Sans started to protest but Grillby nudged him. "I’ll show you a place where no one will bother you." He said. You realized he sounded tired. Had you kept him up all night? "Come to think of it..." He continued. "I might have some warm clothes for you."

You were still wearing just a folded muscle shirt and shorts, you remembered.

Sans snapped out of his thoughts and smiled at you. "hey, i’ll go get your shoes, ok?"

"Thanks." You rasped.

Grillby led you out and down a hall, into a room that was obviously his. He rummaged in his dresser and toward the bottom of it, he pulled out an old, ivory-colored shirt with a rawhide cord lacing up the neckline.

You put it on over the tank and rolled up the sleeves to where they stayed in the crook of your elbow.

He handed you a pair of rough trousers, dark navy in color, banded at the ankles, likely to be easily shoved into bootlegs. The hemp cord threaded through the waist was tightly knotted and he struggled briefly to untie it before handing it to you.

You had to roll them up quite a bit, but they were comfortable and warm.

Grillby smiled at you. "These clothes are so old, you can’t even fathom it."

You offered him your best approximation of a smile. “Where did it come from?”

“That was my very first uniform as Toriel’s guard. Well… part of it. The rest of it fell apart. I kept this part together with magic, so it will always be warm. It has been sitting in this drawer since I moved in here. Before that, it was in another drawer. And so on. For roughly six hundred years.”

He gestured to you. “You certainly look warmer now. I feel more comfortable with you going now.”

Sans showed up and handed you your shoes. “grillbz, what happens if you’re wrong and someone finds them?”

“That won’t happen. Trust me, Sans.”

He sighed, but looked at you. He remembered when he and Papyrus had been young, how sometimes, if not given the space to just heal, they would take that space unsafely.

He had to believe Grillby. He had to believe that you’d be safe.

But he couldn’t.

 

* * *

 

You found the clearing Grillby had directed you to, and you sat out there for a while, basking in the warmth the clothes lent. Now that you were on your own, the silence wasn’t scary. Your thoughts began to return.

When on the surface, when Ko hadn’t been around, you had erased the numbness by singing. Honestly, though, with how Papyrus kept reacting to you singing, you were sure that music was some kind of taboo, or perhaps you just didn’t sound good to monsters.

So you stood there and listened to the wind for a moment before deciding to make yourself sing. Maybe you could force yourself to feel, too?

It took a couple songs to get the feeling back, but it happened with a vengeance.

Meanwhile, not too far away, Sans was discovering magic from a whole different vantage point.

Yes, he would admit that perhaps following you was a dangerous idea-- but he had NO IDEA just how it would be dangerous.

Your voice threw him off, but then he saw the fog around you darkening into magic, and he made an important discovery about you. That was a color he wasn’t familiar with.

He glanced at your soul, but it was murky again. However, as you sang, it began to brighten, as if you were forcibly scraping the darkness from your soul.

Whatever you were doing to yourself, he wasn’t sure he could survive it. Thus, avoiding the spreading russet fog became a survival plan.

A plan he wasn’t sure he could stick to. And if he put up a shield, you’d see him-- or sense him!

He had to figure out what to do soon. You had gone onto another song, and this one spread your influence even further. Your soul was raw, angry, hurt. With that internal energy, the magic you’d summoned would probably share that quality.

He put up a shield and prayed you wouldn’t notice him.

At first, you didn’t notice anything unusual, but when you did, fear and aggression took over.

Maybe if you kept singing long enough to get a read on who it was and what their intentions were…

After another verse, you figured out it was Sans. You ground your teeth through the chorus to locate him.

Sans figured you had found him when you started changing the lyrics to "I’m gonna kick your fucking ass when I find you, you short son-of-a-bitch." Among other variations of the same sentiment.

He didn’t really have time to teleport, and why would he go away if he was here to protect you?

Maybe if he explained--

Something broke through his shield, and he lay there in shock, waiting for his inevitable death.

When nothing happened, he tried to move but discovered he was paralyzed. You were still singing, but he could hear the anger evaporating from your voice.

It didn’t hurt. Gods, but it was terrifying… but therein lied a problem.

For years, Sans had kept this a secret, but something about subjugation, about helplessness…

He felt himself being pulled to his feet, but he still couldn’t even wiggle his fingers. His gaze darted to you, his fear rising higher when he saw how truly _pissed_ you were.

Fear didn’t help his situation. He thought he was over this. He thought he could keep a straight head after last time almost got him killed.

You wouldn’t hurt him, though, or else he’d have felt it by now.

When you stopped singing, he fell back into the snow, face-up. Even as you yelled at him.

He was just really glad he didn’t have the equivalent of a **boner** to reveal his current predicament.

"Why can’t I just be alone for five minutes? If it’s time for me to die, just fucking _let me_!" You screamed.

"nah." He calmly responded.

"FUCK YOU! I just want to be alone!"

Sans realized now why Grillby had discouraged him from coming after you. Well, to be fair, he’d known already, but now he saw that maybe he should have _listened_.

"Sans, I’m used to being alone. It’s _normal_ for me." You weren’t yelling anymore, but you sounded more tired than he’d ever heard. "I...I just need some time to figure myself out, vent. Okay? And I just don’t want to bother anyone."

Maybe he could make up for it by listening now.

You looked out into the clearing, at how the trees beyond it stretched high above the fog. You took a deep breath, enjoying that the air didn’t taste stagnant-- just frigid and wet, like breathing through a soaked towel.

"So… that’s why Paps didn’t want me singing?"

"what?"

"He cringed every time I sang, or redirected me. Thought I just sucked."

"huh, i mean, no you definitely don’t suck. but uh… i had no idea your magic was tethered to music."

"I guess it’s not normal?"

"i mean, kids learn by linking some action or something to it, but that’s because it helps them not go crazy with it, use too much at once, and eventually they grow out of it or risk getting killed because it’s predictable."

"Huh."

"when i was a kid, i used my arm to change the direction of my magic. now i just do it in my head so my moves can’t be predicted."

It was easier to just listen than contribute, so you just kept staring out into the distance.

"paps was kind of a natural. he learned so well from grillbz that he can wield four different weapons, change them fluidly, strike by strike, and still use his magic like i do."

That sounded impressive. "So you’re telling me he’s been holding back."

Sans laughed and hoisted himself up to stand near you. "figured you knew."

"I did." You replied. "That was an attempt at humor."

At some point, the two of you sat down where the snow gave way to stiff, dark ground.

"So, Paps can do weapons. What about you?"

"heheh, that requires moving and… stuff. nah, grillbz taught me the other arts of battle. _tactics_ and some other easy shit."

You chuckled. Sitting down next to him like you were, he could see the scars on your scalp where you’d shaved your scalp your first day here.

He pulled himself up on his haunches. "hey, mind if i...?"

You tensed, thinking. "Knock yourself out, I guess."

You had no idea what he was about to do, so it kind of frightened you when his cold bones touched your scalp. The feeling of his fingers passing over the stubble was admittedly pleasant, but you were afraid to enjoy it, still unsure what he was doing.

He traced the scars from where you’d cut too close, as well as a few he doubted you made, down behind your left ear. He could feel you hesitantly relax under his touches.

He wasn’t ready when you spoke again. “Why do you care, anyway?”

He didn’t know how to answer, so he bought time by continuing to massage your scalp.

Your head was a mess. You were ashamed that you’d screamed at him, but also you were upset about this new revelation. If your music-- your oldest coping mechanism-- was tied to magic that could potentially harm your friends if you didn’t concentrate…

You felt helpless. Your outlet was poisoned, and it made you afraid to dig what felt like infection out of your soul. You felt like your strengths had become your weaknesses-- with no new strengths rising to make up for it.

But that wasn’t what scared you most. No one here could harm you-- not with the skeletons or Grillby watching over you, and with your magic, soon you knew you’d be a force to be reckoned once you had it under control…

It was the calmness you felt, the tiny appreciative noise you couldn’t hold back as his fingers continued to rub over the stubble on your head. _That_ was what scared you. You were afraid of how much you enjoyed just _this_.

Years ago, that was how things started with Ko.

No, that wasn’t fair. You couldn’t compare Sans to Ko.

But the last time you’d felt this level of potential intimacy… the last time you’d _been_ intimate… You remembered the dream, the pressure of large fingers around your throat, the growl of his voice as he called you a maggot, told you you had to _try harder_ you had to _be what he wanted_ or he’d find someone more compliant, that no one else would want you-- not after what he’d done to you.

Your scars felt like they were crawling, and you curled in on yourself, feeling filthy. You didn’t realize you were growling.

“slake, i’m here if you want to talk.”

It snapped you out of your reverie, but honestly, what could you say? Where would you even start? You shrugged. “Just stupid human shit. Nothing to worry about.” You were lying and you knew he knew it.

His aggravation caused him to dig a little too roughly at your scalp for a moment, and he withdrew his hands for a moment to avoid hurting you. Your words bothered him. He’d opened up to you, hadn’t he? Did you doubt he’d listen to you in turn?

You could tell by his tone he was stung. “you don’t have’ta tell me.” He said and got to his feet. “just... thought i’d offer.”

“Why though? What does it matter if the human has emotions and memories. I’m just a creature of blood and spite.”

“neither of us believe that.”

“What, just because I’m not entirely a human, somehow? I’m still nothing more than a bag of blood and shit. I don’t feel anything, I never do. I just keep going out of some… compulsion.”

Sans shook his head, but he didn’t walk away. At last, he spoke again, sounding incredulous and slightly condescending, his emotions getting the best of him. “you really think the only time you emote is when you sing?”

You gave a humorless bark of laughter, and Sans walked around you to stand in front, waiting for you to look up and meet his stare. You stubbornly refused, still growling low in your chest like a wild dog.

He sighed. “like i said, slake. you don’t have to tell me, but don’t think for a fuckin moment that i don’t got your back.”

He turned away again and you quit growling as he walked. He got a few steps away before you internally groaned at yourself and audibly cleared your throat.

His smile was gentler when he turned around, and it made you want to tell him to fuck off, anyway. He didn’t speak, just waited.

“I don’t want to sing in front of anyone.” You said.

He nodded. “figured as much.”

“I… just don’t want people to see me.” That was the only way you could word it, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t about visibility in the literal sense. It was...

He chuckled. “i see you much better than you think i do, slake. i can see your soul anytime i wanna.”

You scowled. “Thought I asked you not to look.”

He shrugged. “we already established that i’m an asshole. it’s why i’m here, right? guess i’m good at not respecting your space.”

You shook your head. You could hear the apology in his voice, but you didn’t respond to it. “Why do you look?”

His smile faltered. “it hurts to feel for someone you killed.” He said. “and i understand that pretty good. so... i just wanted to keep an eye on you. and... i noticed that your soul… kinda gets brighter around us.”

You grimaced and looked up at him. He was staring out into space, lost in thought. You got up, startling him out of his thoughts, but his gaze softened the tiniest bit.

You grunted in frustration. Your feelings were so conflicted and you were disgusted with everything about yourself. Sometimes you could still feel Ko’s hands on you, and right now it was killing you slowly, like decaying from the inside out.

But at the same time, looking at Sans, you could almost believe you could get through this. He’d been through something similar, and he looked like he was doing just fine. Maybe he was right. Maybe he could help you. Maybe all you needed was to keep moving like he did.

“Let’s walk a bit.” You said.

He nodded and looked away, his hand resting on the back of his head. The soft scraping noise made you grimace slightly and you grabbed his hand to keep him from doing it again. He looked startled and almost pulled away, but saw the look on your face and decided to not argue.

Did you look frightening right now? You couldn’t bring yourself to force a smile. All the same, though, because you couldn’t promise it would be a convincing charade. It would only further the unsteadiness of your emotions.

Why was everything switching so quickly? Numbness combatting oversensitivity at every turn. Nihilism battling hope every other moment.

Sans couldn’t talk. He couldn’t say what he wanted to because he was afraid of how you’d react. He lived in a world without natural light, without warmth. But you’d come down here, smear of blood across your soul, but it didn’t make a difference.

You were _light._ At first he hadn’t wanted to admit it, but if there was one thing he sucked at it was lying to himself.

He had needed someone to talk to, and you had been there. Sure, you had mostly just stoically listened, but… you had listened. You hadn’t judged him. You didn’t fault him-- he could almost tell himself you respected him. Maybe it was just the camaraderie among murderers of a similar situation.

He hadn’t meant to let that mean so much to him, but here it was, written across his face, most likely. He couldn’t help but admire just how your skin felt against his bones. He knew how strong you were, knew how much damage you could sustain, but like this, you felt vulnerable.

You were soft-- dangerously so, in many ways-- and he was stuck between wanting to see deeper into you and wanting to help you build your walls higher so you could feel safe again.

Of course, if he could be behind those walls, too, all the better.

“I like being here.” You said softly. “Like this. At first, it was like killing time, y’know? On some level, I thought I’d find myself back up there, maybe even with him. Sometimes it doesn’t feel real that I killed him. And just… even though everyone here is an asshole, at least they’re honest about it. People are nicer here than on the surface, murderous intent aside.”

Force of habit, he looked at your soul. He averted his eyes before he could get too much more than a cursory glance. “I know you follow me everywhere. I mean… today is proof of that. Why? You don’t think I can take care of myself?”

He shook his head. “it’s not just that. even if i were confident in your fighting ability, i’d still do it… i don’t trust anyone enough to just let you handle whatever comes on your own.”

You scoffed. “What’s gonna happen, huh?”

“undyne could stop by any day, alphys could send assassins. asgore himself could march on tundra, and you wouldn’t know until it’s too late.”

“You can teleport, you dumbass. You don’t have to follow me.”

He sighed. “i’m not gonna stop.”

There was a long pause, and he was still very aware that his hand was linked with yours. You were so warm, so inviting. He wondered briefly what that warmth would feel like against his teeth, and shook the thought off.

Your soul changed abruptly, from dull to bright in a flash, and Sans looked up from his feet, startled. “what’s up?”

When his eyes met yours, you leaned in close, eyes lidded and malicious, but your face was otherwise stoic. “You?” Your voice was a husky growl and Sans felt a jolt down his spine. Compounded by the attraction he’d felt earlier, you were having so much of an effect on him.

You leaned away and laughed your ass off.“Holy shit, that actually worked!” Sans realized he was blushing now.

He growled and looked away again, assuring himself that, when the time came, he’d get you back even worse. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, though. Your laugh was rare, and every time he heard it he had that uncomfortable feeling in his chest that demanded attention.

He also didn’t want to admit he was disappointed that it had only been a joke.

It was too easy to laugh along, but Tundra was nearing, and he schooled his expression again. “let’s take a shortcut the rest of the way home, slake. don’t wanna fuck around with any of these ass-clowns today.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

 _wow. didn’t expect that to work_. Usually, you didn’t trust his magic, but either you were too drained to care right now, or perhaps…

No, he shouldn’t let himself hope that hard.

His room was the easiest target, and he didn't think twice about dropping the two of you into the dark, unkempt room.

You sighed and looked around, hitching an eyebrow at him. It was dark enough you only had a vague sense of his form, but he could see you clearly. He rather liked how you looked in the glow of his red magic. He liked how your eyes looked like sparks to a flame he’d love to see ignite.

He noticed a stir in your soul, brief, and then he heard you hum low, felt an insistent tug forward that he couldn't escape. He came closer to you, felt a moment of panic as the weight of realization hit him.

You were using magic. You were _restraining_ him. He was at your mercy. And, goddammit, that was his most terrifying weakness.

Your arms wrapped around him and pulled him further, dragging his body with you as you fell backward onto his bed.

He waited. What the hell was going on? What were you going to do?

You had stopped humming but he couldn't move. You looked at him, eyes harder than they had been. "slake, talk to me."

"I… don't understand what I’m feeling." You admitted. "I suffered so much but…I want to know what it feels like… when I’m in control." Your eyes softened a tiny bit. “Is that normal?”

He realized it then. It explained why you’d changed lately. You’d been more aggressive, your smell was different, you were teasing him… "you… uh..."

 _holy shit_.

The dark glint in your eyes extinguished, but you hesitated before pulling away., "Sorry, this isn't me. This isn't…" you pushed him off of you and got up. "I'm getting a shower."

You shot out of the room and into the bathroom, immediately seeking the mirror and staring at your face. You looked wild, like you’d just been interrupted during sex. You swallowed hard when you realized what direction you’d been going.

Your body felt like it was on fire but you refused it, grinding your teeth. You turned the water on as cold as it would go and jumped in. You could almost imagine steam rolling off of you. When you opened your eyes, you realized there _was_ steam.

Masturbation was off the table; Sans was in the next room, and with how pent up you were, you knew you wouldn’t be quiet, and the prospect of falling in the shower was not an attractive one.

Magic be damned, maybe you could control it if you were aware enough. You needed to calm down, get rid of these feelings-- and especially these _emotions_ you didn’t want. _Nobody_ wanted these feelings. You would sing them away.

 

***

 

Sans sat on his bed in shock. What the actual hell was going on with you?! The noise of the pipes told him you were actually hiding in the shower-- but then he heard you start singing.

This was troubling.

Yes, that was certainly the telltale smoke of your magic coming under his door and seeking him. He could see it and he was trapped between curiosity and outright fear of what it would do. Considering, though, that fear didn't exactly prompt an appropriate reaction in him...

He could hear your voice in the bathroom as you sang, and the tendrils of magic came closer and closer. He knew that short of leaving entirely he wasn't getting away from this and he honestly _wanted_ to know what you would do. What you _felt_.

He reached out.

He could feel your intent as the smoky magic wrapped around his bones and tugged him onto the floor. All at once he could feel your magic wash over him, restraining him, pleasing him.

You sang three songs, and that was enough time for your magic to bring sans to a state of pleasure akin to agony. He writhed against the smoke, breathed you in, panted your name as your magic released its tension by building his.

Your voice became particularly aggressive toward the end. Sans didn't know what exactly he was feeling but you knew what he should feel. Rather, your _soul_ knew exactly what he needed to feel. That last bit of nearly violent magic sent him over an edge he didn't know existed. He fought to hold onto your magic, hold onto anything, and he choked on his breath.

 

***

 

The magic drifted away as the water turned off and Sans lay on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened to him.

The more important questions arose thereafter: Did you know what had happened, and if not, would he be able to keep it secret? Would he be able to look you in the eye now?

Would he be able to hide how much he wanted you, especially after this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, from Sans getting caught watching Slake to the end of the chapter, i've had pre-written on my google docs for literally a year, so when i saw people were interested, I was SO READY to put it out there! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Also, dare I mention that writing sex based Solely in magic is really challenging and weird to me, but also FUN AS FECK. 
> 
> And before you start feeling betrayed because it was... not what you were expecting.....
> 
> I promise there will be *harder* stuff in the future.
> 
> ***Safe-For-Work Summary***  
> Slake sings, their magic invades Sans' room, and he's curious/horny enough to reach out to it. That's about it. It's very one-sided and odd.


	8. Bottled Up *

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster makes his first appearance.
> 
> And we get drunk with some skeles.
> 
> WARNINGS FOR: References of abuse (as always, sorry T.T), Alcohol consumption, drunken seduction, and Sexual content for fuckin' days. NONE OF IT WAS INTENTIONAL THIS TIME IT JUST HAPPENED. 
> 
> If you want to skip the brief description of Slake's sex dream, do not read the crossed out part! Also, for the Heated Part later in the chapter, as always, skip the ***-enclosed area!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY ITS BEEN A LONG WEEK BUT WRITING HELPED ME NOT KILL PEOPLE YAY.
> 
> Have some stuff!
> 
> FEATURING: a couple more drawings of characters from my War Fic-- this time, Gaster's siblings! You'll notice there are some.................. similarities. ENJOY!

From his vantage in the ether, Gaster could see everything that could be. It had made winning Sans over easy. It had made _many_ things easy. But it didn’t erase what had happened in the past. None of it. Not the War, not his accomplishments as a scientist, not Anything.

Only his name had been erased from history. No one remembered him. Not his flaming fuck-buddy from the War, not the royal family he served for literal centuries. And until his fairly recent involvement, not even Sans remembered.

Gaster refused to acknowledge his own shortcomings. He refused to acknowledge his weaknesses. He was an infinite being full of power-- but unable to maintain a foothold in reality, thus giving him absolutely no way of using it.

He hated feeling helpless, but it had been a theme throughout life for him. The War had left him feeling helpless as he bore the deaths of his father and siblings, the loss of his home, the humiliation of defeat-- but falling in love with a human had been the worst.

One of the humans who had fallen had appeared to be a child, but on closer inspection was certainly an adult, though he was remarkably short. What had started as an experimental work-based relationship turned into an explosively sexual one.

The blue-souled human named Crag was nothing more to him than an expression of his pent up energy, he had assured himself. Nothing more than physicality and violent sex. That was why Gaster only called him Blue.

Gaster had a hard time consciously reconciling that he was working (and fucking) with a living human to whom he could attribute the atrocities of all his friends’ deaths-- including his sister [Adilet ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/33015515a518ff4f3205584578e737d6/tumblr_ogxnpyD8ME1vsxcqwo2_250.jpg)and sibling [Zorion](https://68.media.tumblr.com/0386c1d34b865b2d71d9eaff32302e58/tumblr_ogxnpyD8ME1vsxcqwo3_250.jpg).

It had taken a long time to rid himself of stupid pity and empathy, but when he met Blue, Gaster was long past the point of emotional stagnation. However, when finally confronted with the first live human in his midst in nearly 800 years, he was morbidly curious about so many things.

He was also incredibly bitter.

In this maelstrom of feelings, Gaster treated Blue like garbage-- but the short, sassy fucker gave as good as he got.

"i didn’t jump into a hole to be treated like shit." Blue had said once, standing over Gaster with a heavy bookend in one hand, hefting it like a weapon. "either straight-up kill me or learn some respect, you tall, bony fuckall!"

And respect him he eventually did, if for nothing else, his consistency. He didn’t want to grow too close to this fragile, tiny creature that he desperately wanted to hate-- but by the time he reminded himself of that, it was too late.

His response at that point was to be selfish for once in his life. He went with it-- for science, of course.

After the explosiveness of their relationship died down a bit, there was an odd level to it where they were happy and actually trusted each other somewhat. It was scary for both of them.

When they attempted to bond, it went much better than they had expected, and suddenly they were very solidly tethered to each other. That hadn’t been the plan; it was supposed to be some kind of sadomasochism.

Oh, well.

Considering that that had worked, though, it made Gaster ask himself more questions. What else could he and Blue do if they were so compatible? Blue was averse to losing any fingers or toes-- but gaster took one of his pinkies anyway. For science.

Introducing a cut-out from his palm into a stability-vat with the pinkie produced questionable results. He added another with just his input from his other palm as a control. Blue wasn’t thrilled, but as the figures in the vats began growing, he got excited.

Asgore grew tired of sitting on his hands, however, and Blue’s soul was harvested before he could meet their children. Gaster couldn’t hold back his grief or the effects of having a bondmate die.

Asgore belittled him for falling for a human, especially knowing what that would eventually entail. Gaster kept working out of spite, silently.

He grew cold as the figures in the vats grew larger. He released them from the confines of their incubators, and began running tests. It was as if all the love he’d been capable of had been Blue’s alone. His interactions with the children were cold, clinical. He got data, he left then alone.

Sans excelled in many things-- but that was because he was genuinely just like his fathers. Analytical to a fault. Careful. Concise.

Papyrus, on the other hand, was weak. His development and growth had all but ceased when taken from the vat. Without Sans, he’d fall down and dust quickly enough. He couldn’t even talk.

Quickly, Gaster grew weary. He often thought about dusting himself and being done with it. One day he decided to-- but not before putting these kids out of their misery. Gods knew he’d fucked up as a parent and caretaker anyway.

But it was his other experiments that held him back. Literally. He’d ended up in the Void, biding his time and energy while he had the horror of watching his sons persist in a world he had isolated himself from long ago.

No, it took years to figure out a way to contact them-- but when it came time to choose one of them to approach, he’d hesitated briefly.

Papyrus had grown so well. He looked just like Gaster’s own sister, and even fought like her thanks to Grillby’s training. He felt proud-- but he didn’t know Papyrus like he knew Sans.

Sans not only had his and Blue’s cumulative intellect, but Grillby’s tactical training and an interest in mechanical, mathematical, and abstract sciences. In other words, Sans had what it might take to bring Gaster back.

Of course, Sans had been abed for three or four days straight, wracked with mental pains, complete with blinding shots of light in his vision that came and went for weeks and had the possibility of making him faint wherever he was.

It was a small price to pay, as far as Gaster was concerned.

After Sans’ memories had returned and Gaster began hassling him about bringing him back, Sans began asking for things in return. Other than annoying Sans to death, what leverage did Gaster have?

He began by telling Sans about the alternate timelines, about all the possibilities, answering any question Sans was willing to ask.

However, the conundrum at present was out of his hands.

 _You_ were not part of his plan. This whole timeline was garbage-- but it was the best possibility for getting out of the Void. Until you showed up. Sans was in no hurry to help him now. He was too busy developing _feelings_.

Gaster tried to pretend it only bothered him from the inconvenience, but… He wouldn’t wish the pain he’d experienced with Blue’s death on anyone. Especially someone he saw so much of Blue in.

You were a problem. A _large_ problem. And he had no way to get rid of you. That left one option:

He had to help you survive.

 

* * *

 

You hadn’t slept well at all, not after everything that’d happened the day before. You hadn’t even tried to take care of your stress levels, either. With how much of that side you’d showed Sans already, you didn’t want to risk getting caught.

So now, weary and pent up, you sat across the table from your biggest tormentor. You were trying to act normal but you’d had a dream last night that had done the exact opposite of satisfy you.

~~You’d dreamt of Papyrus holding you in his lap naked, clasping your wrists above your head with one massive, powerful hand, the other playing at your entrance as he watched you over your shoulder.~~

You shivered and pointed your attention toward _reality_.

"So, Paps, why don’t you like hanging with Grillby?"

"GREASE, PRIMARILY." He responded.

His voice made you bite the inside of your mouth. You _really_ had problems.

"I mean, didn’t he raise you?"

"YES, YOU COULD SAY THAT."

He really wasn’t big on conversation today. Then again, Papyrus rarely spoke of himself for someone so seemingly self-absorbed.

The topic and your mood switched abruptly as he spoke. "YOU WERE THRASHING IN YOUR SLEEP. YOU ALMOST FELL OFF THE COUCH." There was a pause. "I THOUGHT IT WAS A NIGHTMARE AT FIRST."

"Uh…"

"BUT I’D HOPE YOU ARE NOT HAVING NIGHTMARES THAT REQUIRE YOU TO YELL MY NAME. UNLESS YOU WERE ASKING FOR HELP IN WHICH CASE I’M THE SKELETON FOR THE JOB."

You froze, keeping a poker face from sheer force of will.

You remembered the tail end of the dream, where he’d gotten you close and then stopped, making you sit there writhing as he laughed darkly in your ear.

Writhing had led to waking up. Eventually.

Cockblocked by your own dreams.

Okay, reality wasn’t good right now. You desperately needed another distraction.

Sans’ door opened upstairs. _Oh, no._

Now you’d be starting your day with _two_ targets of your sexual tension.

"I think I’d like to go to the bar today. Can you and Sans train alone today?"

Papyrus looked crestfallen, and you almost rushed to take it back. His expression changed, though. "HOW ABOUT A COMPROMISE? YOU TRAIN FOR A WHILE AND THEN WE’LL ALL GO TO GRILLBY’S."

"I thought you didn’t like to go?" That was the opposite of what you suggested.

"IT IS AS YOU SAID. I DON’T VISIT HIM NEARLY OFTEN ENOUGH. I SHOULD TOUCH BASE WITH HIM." He paused. "I USED THAT CORRECTLY, RIGHT?"

"What?"

"HUMAN IDIOMS ARE STRANGE." He remarked. "HOW DOES TOUCHING BASE WITH SOMEONE IMPLY CATCHING UP? IS IT TOUCHING BASE AS IN SPORTS-BALL? OR IS IT THE KIND THE DAT-- _**I MEAN** THE BOOK I READ_ MENTIONS?"

You were too busy chuckling to answer for a moment. When you looked up, you saw he looked very pleased with himself.

You weren’t sure how to feel about that.

 

* * *

 

Training went about as well as normal-- better, if you were honest. You were finally starting to shape up, and you were immensely proud of yourself.

That was why you were so excited to get treated to a burger. Of course, when Grillby heard about your training, he demanded to be part of the next session. At first you thought he was joking, and agreed. He had the bar-- he wouldn’t be putting that off or skipping sleep to train you!

You were incredibly wrong.

"Drink well tonight, child, because you’re going to be too tired and sore to exist after tomorrow." Grillby threatened.

Papyrus was absolutely giddy. The prospect of training with Grillby again was lovely-- but it was more of a feeling of sharing something integral to himself with you.

No one else aside from him until now had trained under Grillby one-on-one aside from Undyne’s mother. Did that count since it was during the war?

Regardless, he was excited to have something like this in common with you. Like a bonding experience-- err… not _that_ kind of bonding experience.

He’d been on edge since this morning, admittedly. You’d smelled oddly again, thrashing on the couch, and the way you’d growled his name…

He ordered a drink from Grillby, earning an amused and dubious brow-raise from the-- "BAR **TINDER** , MAY I HAVE SOMETHING STRONG?"

"Just one." Grillby said, passing him a bottle with lime-hued contents.

"got my favorite in?" Sans asked. "if he gets booze, so do i, dammit."

"You owe me already, Sans."

You stepped in. "C’mon, Fireball. Have a heart. Sans sure doesn’t."

"eyyyyy."

"Just for _that_ pun, I’m charging you both double." He crackled, but his tone was warm as he leaned under the counter to produce--

"Holy shit, human whiskey?" You asked as he passed it to Sans.

"i like rum and other stuff like that, but it’s hard to come by down here. grillbz keeps it for me when it comes in. anything that isn’t jack daniels comes to me."

"What happens to the Jack Daniels?" You asked. "That’s oddly specific."

"Deal with an old friend." He replied.

"Huh. So whatcha got for me?" You asked.

"Would you like monster or human fare?"

"When in Rome." You answered to no reaction.

"Rome?" Grillby clenched his brow. "Gods but that sounds familiar."

"Uh… it’s a saying. When in Rome, do as the Romans do."

Papyrus set his bottle down a bit too roughly. "I BELIEVE THE SENTIMENT IS THAT THEY WILL PARTAKE IN OUR CULTURE SINCE IT IS AROUND THEM."

"That’s… surprisingly accurate."

Papyrus grinned at you and took another generous drink from the bottle. It was almost empty already.

You turned back to find Grillby handing you a bottle, freshly opened. You accepted it gladly and took a hearty gulp before you could bother with logic.

 _That_ was a punishing feeling, but it quickly turned to a jolt that made your throat tingle. You gasped and spasmed slightly, and the others laughed at you. Irked and challenged, you made eye contact with them each in turn before tipping the bottle back and attempting to chug it.

You got about three gulps in before you throat spasmed. Some of it spewed out your nose, and you convulsed almost violently.

The others cheered you and as soon as the bottle left your hand, Grillby replaced it with something of an inviting amber color.

By this time, the other patrons had left the bar, perhaps knowing it was about to get way too rowdy for their poker game.

"holy shit, slake." Sans laughed. "way to show us up. that shit is called molten lightning. fuckin… like only idiots and masochists drink that shit." He sputtered a bit. “fuck, i’ve never seen anyone drink _that_ much of it!”

"Sans, are you a lightweight?"

He brandished the bottle at you. "nnnnnnnnnnnnmmmmmmmyeah."

Papyrus sweetly begged for another bottle, and Grillby relented easily enough that you had to rib him. You took a gulp of the new stuff and hummed in appreciation. "Awww but aren’t you a softie, caving like that."

"I reward manners and humility." He replied darkly.

Yikes.

"God, no wonder you don’t have a wife running around here." You muttered.

Sans and Papyrus both snickered into their bottles, effectively waterboarding themselves.

Grillby leaned over the counter. "The reason there isn’t a woman behind my counter is I’m gay, child." You took another deep chug of the alcohol to hide your embarrassment from making such an assumption. “Don’t feel bad. A lot of monsters don’t know. It’s no one’s business who I do or do not fuck."

"yeah but when you finally _get_ a date, the whole goddamn town knows it." Sans prodded.

"HE IS RIGHT."

"And when was that last?" Grillby asked.

"shit… it’s been years. poor guy."

“I’m confused, does that mean there’s volume issues, or does he mark them up and parade them around town or something?” You asked.

Grillby turned a darker color briefly. He took out a pen and a pad of paper. You saw him write down two words: **markings, exhibition.**

 _Yikes_. “Guess… that answers my question.” You muttered.

Everyone was in good spirits-- and the good spirits were in you. The amount of alcohol you drank wasn’t exactly staggering, but it had been more than effective. Monster alcohol was certainly a different caliber.

At some point you had tried to climb onto the bar and sing, but for multiple (understandable) reasons, Papyrus had to pull you down. You sunk into his arms and sung from there, flailing your bottle around.

Sans was laughing so hard you thought he’d throw up. He passed out shortly thereafter.

You, meanwhile, were starting to get sleepy, too-- or were you? Snuggled up to this asshole, the only thing that kept you from getting handsy was the bottle in your hand and the fact that the other one was anchored securely around his neck.

"I’mma bite you." You said, but leaning up only put you so close. You clicked your teeth at him instead. At first it startled him but after that it was just hilarious. You kept doing it. His laughter made you giggle.

The alcohol worked well in more ways than one; when Papyrus carried you outside, the only thing that immediately got cold was your face. Easily remedied by burying it against his chest, which was surprisingly warm.

That wasn’t armor, was it? Usually it was but… shit, he’d changed clothes to go to the bar? It was soft, warm… and you could feel the strength of his magic and it’s calm pulsations.

Yes, he noticed your attempts at snuggling. No, he was _not_ blushing.

Okay, maybe a little. He was also pretty drunk.. His mind was elsewhere, though he wished he could redirect it.

When you had accidentally wrecked his room with magic, he’d spent the next night fixing it back up after you’d fallen asleep. In the process he’d found something he’d never seen before. It was a graphic novel, in a foreign language, and he wasn’t sure he was reading it right. As for reading it…

Well, perhaps it was an instruction manual. With... very vivid… depictions. It matched what you’d told him about human intracourse.

But now was _not_ the time to think about it.

In his drunken state, he struggled with the doorknob for a minute, unable to focus on his magic enough without using some kind of movement to direct it. Like a child.

"You’re so waaaarm." You groaned, clutching tightly to him, breathing against his shirt.

He gulped. He didn’t frequently wear casual clothes, but… he was intensely pleased by this interaction. It was admittedly easier to pack you around without all that metal in the way, as well.

And hell, it wasn’t _that_ dangerous. Home was right here from the bar and even drunk, he could kill just about anyone here with relative ease.

The _door_.

Fuck. He fumbled again before finally getting it open by twitching his fingers clockwise, like turning the knob.

You were moving around in his arms now, remarking things under your breath. Every time he tried to hear you, you would bury your face in his shirt again, muffling your words further.

He stepped in, almost tripping over the threshold and stumbled toward the couch. He’d normally be light on his feet regardless of inebriation, but with your increasingly erratic movements, it was enough to make him panic mildly at the fear of accidentally dropping you.

He clutched you rather possessively, which made you mutter and squirm even more. He went to settle you onto the couch but you tugged him down with you.

He was just off-balance enough to topple over, perpendicular to you, getting a face-full of couch cushion.

You laughed, laying there looking up at him as he pulled himself back up. He caught your stare and found himself momentarily paralyzed.

***

Gods, but you were enrapturing, looking at him like that, your smile genuine and carefree, your eyes lidded and mischievous. You bit your lip. He had no lips to bite.

He started to get up but you tugged him down again. "Stay!" You protested.

"HOLD ON AND I MIGHT." He countered.

"Don’t YELL AT ME!" You tugged his shoulders, still laughing.

He cracked up, falling the rest of the way onto you. This close, he could see you so much better-- and holy shit you were…

What was he doing?

The two of you lay there for a moment before squirming around to where he wasn’t crushing you. The couch was just wide enough for you to lay side by side, effectively spooning.

You being drunk and wriggly, though…

He thought you were just trying to get comfortable for a moment but you smelled amazing and it felt nice to be pressed this close to you.

Okay, he wasn’t dumb. He knew what he was feeling. He knew what was going on, in a vague way. Just because humans did it different didn’t mean he was oblivious.

Also, the graphic novel had given him some sense of direction.

When he shifted in tandem with you, grinding against your ass, you let out an obscene noise that made his whole body tingle. When had he grabbed your hip?

You whimpered and he tugged you by your hip, causing the noise to turn into a starved moan. _WOW. IT MUST BE JUST AS EASY AS THE BOOK SHOWED AFTER ALL_.

Rolling with the momentum, you flipped yourself and climbed onto him-- or tried to. In the process of both of you shifting to let that happen, you lost balance and ended up battling gravity. You had no chance.

Your grip on Papyrus’ clavicles (when did you grab those? And when did his shirt get torn like that?) brought him tumbling after you.

Both of you lay on the floor, him draped over you yet again. You chuckled a bit but after a moment of staring at each other, you lurched up and kissed him as hard as you could.

The sharpness of his teeth made you groan. Honestly, teeth weren’t made for kissing but you were fucking drunk and this was the break in tension you’d been _craving_ for _over a week_ \--

Holy shit, he was reciprocating.

You whimpered into his mouth. His tongue wasn’t a surprise, but it was wholly welcomed.

He actually groaned in answer when you sucked his tongue, and you needily raised your hips against his, begging with your body for something-- anything-- since your mouth was too busy to ask.

Papyrus wanted to taste you, wanted to touch you. _He wanted to hear you_ \--

Woah, he needed to slow down.

 _He didn’t want to_.

He needed to, though.

_Why?!_

He didn’t know if this was the right thing to do.

_You were so ready though! He could tell by literally everything you were doing._

You were drunker than he was, too, though.

"Papyrus."

"WHAT?"

"You quit kissing me and have been looming there for a while." You were struggling to enunciate, he realized.

"I… UM..."

"Cold feet?"

"NO YOUR FEET ARE PROBABLY VERY WARM." The rest of you sure was.

"No… ugh, I just… are you having second thoughts? About this?"

About...?

"YOU ARE VERY DRUNK."

"So’re you. And please don’t yell."

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I suppose I am."

You shivered. He hadn’t expected that. You liked his voice like this?

"If you want to, I prolly won’t rember tomorrow." You slurred, clumsily looping your arms around his neck.

He sighed. "That seems like a perfect reason _not_ to."

You shrugged. "I wouldn’t mind, y’know."

The nonchalance worried him. "I would rather have you sober." He said firmly.

You settled back against the ground. "Yeah… _yeah_ , you’re right. Wouldn’t wanna throw up, pass out… or just be a lousy lay, I don’t know."

Those weren’t his reasons but this was a moot point. "You handle rejection very well. Thank you."

"I’m trying, dude." You said.

The vulnerability you were failing miserably to hide was going to eat him alive. Maybe one more kiss?

You whimpered when you felt his teeth against your jaw, and exposed your neck. He groaned at the taste of your skin as he licked your pulse. You were clutching him, trying to squish the two of you even closer. Your little noises were driving him mad, especially when he realized half of them were you slurring his name.

He leaned back. "If you remember this tomorrow..." He picked himself up off you.

You looked tired. "I hope I do."

"If you do..."

"It’s still a no, then?" You were trying to hide your disappointment.

"When you’re sober, we’ll try again. But only if I know that’s what you want."

"You want me to beg?"

He shook his head and bent down to scoop you up. You were calm this time and didn’t try to pull him down with you.

"I uh… can get up by myself if you..."

"Nonsense. Let me help you."

You grumbled. He caught it this time. "I almost want you to go back to yelling. This is too much."

"I’ll go back to it after you get over your hangover. Perhaps."

"Now that you know..."

"I love to see you squirm." He admitted, voice a low growl.

You whimpered but couldn’t speak as he lay you down carefully.

***

Before he even finished tucking you in, you were out cold.

He stood there for a moment, hesitating, before going upstairs to get some semblance of rest.

It took longer than he’d have liked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO WANTS TO GUESS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
> 
> WHO WANTS TO KNOW WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG NEXT CHAPTER?
> 
> WHO WANTS TO KNOW WHEN WE'LL FINALLY GET LAID?
> 
> Tune in next episode!~ I love you, thank you!


	9. Found Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get some exposition, see where this AU differs from the others. Pardon the tragic bits, I know you guys are here to satisfy your thirst.
> 
> It's coming. (pun intended) chapter after next, if I'm not mistaken.
> 
> It'll be 2 chapters back to back and it'll be Hard Fucking Core (skippable) smut with feelings.
> 
> HOWEVER we needed more Grillby. WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Mentions of war, death, torture, and vague descriptions of what boils down to be soul-rape, but nothing outright detailed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving right along, and I have a small outline I'm following for the next chapter. Got a lot of ground to cover-- mostly to set up what I have planned.
> 
> And some suffering. You guys like that too, right?
> 
> Thank you guys for being patient with me-- i swear the good shit's coming up.

If you remembered anything, you were doing an amazing job of pretending you didn’t. Papyrus had a lot to consider, everything aside, so he was secretly glad you didn’t remember.

Well, it was really more of a confusing mix of relief, dread, disappointment, and hope. But he decided to just lie to himself in an attempt at optimism.

Sans had slept on the barstool until Grillby finally roused him three or four hours later. Papyrus had heard him come in, almost went to go talk to him, perhaps ask advice.

He had kept it bottled up instead. When morning arrived, you had excused yourself to go sit in what you called Your Clearing until training. He’d sent you off with a cup of restorative tea and a breakfast sandwich.

Sans came down late to find Papyrus standing at the counter, staring at the cabinet blankly.

"penny for your thoughts, bro."

There was a long pause. "WHAT THE FRESH _FUCK_ IS A PENNY?"

"human euphemism. what’s on your mind?"

Papyrus hesitated and then sat down at the table with Sans. "WE KISSED LAST NIGHT. THEY DON’T REMEMBER. SHOULD I BRING IT UP?"

Sans blinked at his brother in surprise for a moment. "fuck, i was gonna freak out until you clarified you were talking about slake."

"EW. NO. I DON’T THINK IT’S POSSIBLE TO BE _THAT_ DRUNK."

"how do you feel about it?"

"THAT IS THE MOST DISGUST--"

"no, paps, _slake_. how do you feel about kissing them?"

"IT WAS _AMAZING_. I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING BUT THEY WERE SO…ERR.... _ENTHUSIASTIC_."

"lucky bastard." Sans chuckled.

Papyrus jolted. "ARE YOU INTERESTED IN THEM AS WELL?"

"i mean… yeah."

"HAVE YOU TWO...?"

"no, not really." Sans said, but hoped Papyrus didn’t notice his hesitation. He couldn’t exactly call the thing that happened with your magic "nothing."

"SANS, IF THEY EXPRESS INTEREST IN ONLY ONE OF US..."

"even if they chose you, i wouldn’t hate either of you."

"MY SENTIMENTS EXACTLY."

There was a tension.

"BUT I AM GOING TO WIN THEIR AFFECTION."

Sans chuckled. "go for it, bro. just remember it’s not a game or a contest."

"OF COURSE NOT! MAY THE BEST SKELETON WIN."

Sans shook his head. "m gonna go check on slake."

"I WILL GO REMIND GRILLBY HE IS NEEDED IN THE TRAINING AREA."

"good deal."

 

* * *

 

You didn’t react when Sans showed up. "am i ok to be here?" He asked.

"You gave me a full five minutes alone." You said. "We’ll keep working on it."

He chuckled and sat next to you.

"Sans, can I ask you about something?"

"nah."

"Fuck you, I’m serious."

"and i never am. go on."

"You ever have dreams about things you shouldn’t? Things that are in the past but like… not _your_ past?"

"fuck, you have no idea."

"Is it a monster thing?"

"i don’t know. might be a hereditary thing."

"Can I pretend it’s normal?"

"why not?"

"I had a dream about my ancestor bonding with her two monster lovers."

"wow. uh. that’s intense."

"And then I watched the two brothers die, and saw her… god, that’s fucking scary. I really hope I can’t do that."

"what? i’m lost."

"So my ancestor was some chick named Ashella. Grillby knew her, by the way."

"ok i’m with you so far."

"Remember how he said I feel like a few old friends? Ashella bonded with these two dragons who were brothers. Their names were Torby and Pyric." Shit, you were tearing up again. You thought you had it under control before Sans came out here.

"hey, hey. it’s ok. go on if you want."

"Okay… so…" You cleared your throat and steeled your voice as best you could. "There was a raid, and the other human mages captured Ashella. They kept her in a cell, where these two guys kept coming down there to brainwash her."

"did it work?"

"No. Torby and Pyric came after her and were thrown into a cell as well, where she could see them but not help them. The humans tried to torture them but they could kill people on contact. Poison, or something."

"wait, what do you mean by poison or something?"

"Torby was poisonous to anyone he touched unless he focused on not being so. Pyric was the other way around. Apparently, Ashella’s body fluids were poisonous, too."

"ok...."

"Fuck, where was I?"

"torture?"

"Ugh. Alright. So like… they tried to make Torby and Pyric bond with humans to make more mages-- y’know because--"

"yeah, grillbz told me. but to force that…"

"Exactly. It would cause unimaginable pain to not just them, but their deep-bondmate."

There was a difference between a low-level bond and one made from a deep emotional connection to each other. Whereas the latter would result in pleasure, the former would be the most intense pain imaginable.

Sure, a low-level bond wouldn’t produce high-level mages… but it turned the tide of the war immensely, by what Ashella was told.

"so if they were poisonous, how did they use them like that?"

"They used Ashella as a hostage. And the brothers decided pain was better than death. They couldn’t bear the thought of her dying." You paused for a long time. "The first occasion they were alone again… after the pain finally subsided enough to speak. Ashella asked if there was a way to escape."

"why’d she ask them?"

"Pyric was a decent strategist and Torby was very creative and inventive."

"gotcha."

"They thought on it, talked about it quietly, in a way that no one listening could hear."

"through the bond? shit, that’s a deep bond. uhhh, wait… were the brothers…?"

"Huh? _No_. It wasn’t like that. I think the word is _metamore_."

"noted."

"Anyway. So the brothers said there was no way they were all getting out alive. Pyric’s wings were cut off, and he didn’t have enough energy in his soul to regrow them-- it would take weeks. Torby was bound with barbed shackles, and if his skin broke much in his state, his acidic blood would eat away his flesh and kill him."

"holy shit."

"They’d broken Ashella’s fingers on one hand to prove they were capable of hurting them if they didn’t comply, and one of her legs was broken. None of them were in any shape to get out."

"i don’t like how this is sounding."

"The brothers told Ashella that if they both died and she absorbed their souls, she’d have enough power to escape. They told her dragons never really die…"

"fuck."

"It gets worse." You warned.

"fuck it, go on."

"It took a while but they finally got through to her.”

“you’re kidding.”

“I honestly kind of wish I was.”

“did it… work?”

You were silent. "Can we talk about something else?"

 _it worked._ He nodded. "of course. i’d say i’m all ears, but i don’t have any."

You cracked a weak smile. "I guess I feel kind of humbled after all the shit I learned. There has been so much death, especially of those who didn’t deserve it." You sighed. "I think I’ll get over… killing him. One day. Y’know?"

Sans nodded. "be patient with yourself."

"What did you do… after that stuff? How did you cope?"

"well… not well. did some dumb stuff." He didn’t make a move to continue and you didn’t prod him. He lay back in the snow and you mimicked him. Grillby’s borrowed clothes kept you warm and dry.

Slowly, the words came out. "i’m pretty weak, y’know. felt like a burden for the longest time, but also i was desperate to feel, to be loved. i tried to bond with different people. like… six or seven in the course of a year. never took."

"That… had to be agonizing." In more ways than one. With how apparently “weak” Sans was, it’s amazing the pain alone didn’t dust him.

"not any worse than i was used to. the emotional aspect was worst. i was still broken and even deeper in hatred of myself. fun fact: only two of them are still alive-- not that i killed any of them."

"I understand." You said. "I wouldn’t think you’d hurt a partner."

“that means a lot. thank you.” He paused. “but nah… it’s mostly just about keeping on going until it sorts itself out, i guess. i have only really had myself… ehhhhh ok, that’s a lie. there was this door, yeah? the one you came through. i’d sit there and talk to this old lady that lived behind it. i’d go there often enough… but mostly when i wanted to die.”

“I didn’t meet a lady.”

“you met her son, didn’t you? the sorta prickish one?”

“I thought he was satan, and he tried to hug me.”

Sans laughed loudly, the sound echoing in the clearing. “shit, though. satan? really?”

“Giant goat with snow white fur and _huge_ horns and black facial markings. In a robe. And I’d just killed a dude. _Yes, I legitimately thought I’d met Satan_.”

 _wait. the kid is a **kid**? holy fuck._ “you’re really lucky i know who satan is.”

“I guess I am.” You mused. “One less thing I gotta explain to the resident genius.”

“flattery gets you nowhere with me.”

“I don’t know about that. I can feel you warming up to me.”

“you sure it’s not indigestion? that’s a thing, too, right?”

“Yes it is, and no, I know it’s not indigestion.” You grinned at him. “You got those fluffy feelings, don’t you?”

“fuck nah.”

You laughed. “Good. I mean, I’m sure you’re not interested in humans anyway. We must look fucking freaky or something…” You paused and looked at him. “Back me up here, it’s okay for me to not want someone to… need me. Want, sure, but _need_ me?”

“yeah, i gotcha. hell, if anyone knows about that shit, it’s me. that shit warps your perceptions of love and lust.”

“How eloquently put. Become a poet.”

“fuck you, slake.”

“Maybe later, bonehead.”

He startled at that. “uh…”

You colored. “Just a joke, Sans. I’m not gonna jump your bones.” _Not without consent, anyway._

Grillby found both of you in the clearing, and at that point you remembered that he was involved in training today. You muttered to Sans, “I’m going to die today.”

“probably. it’ll be ok. we’ll always have your back.”

You took more comfort from that than you wanted to.

 

* * *

 

Learning to use your magic defensively was simple enough under Grillby’s tutelage-- but he became worried when you couldn’t summon your magic without music. None of the methods he was teaching you were helping.

“i don’t see the problem, really.”

“I AGREE. SLAKE’S SINGING IS BOTH VERY HAUNTINGLY EFFECTIVE BUT ALSO--”

“I can show you in three seconds how it is a _debilitating flaw that will get them killed_.” Grillby interrupted.

You gulped. “Okay… um.”

“Slake, sing while trying to block me.”

You tried, and were doing a remarkable job blocking him until he grabbed you by the throat. Your music ceased and the brothers stared in mute horror.

“Do you see now? Anything that either knocks the breath out of them or makes it impossible to sing is going to be their downfall. Anything that can get the drop on them is going to kill them. If they cannot summon their magic without their companion movements, _they will die in a battle against anyone even moderately trained._ ”

You tapped Grillby’s hand. “Can you… put me back down?” You wheezed.

He gently settled you back on your feet and held you steady on them until you caught your breath. “I’m not trying to frighten or discourage you-- not much, at least-- I just don’t want you to die in your first real fight. I don’t want you to die at all.”

There was a tinge of desperation in Grillby’s voice that made you look up at him. “Whoa, Fireball, slow down there.” You tried to soothe him. “I’m gonna be okay. Alright?”

“We were _all_ going to be okay.” He said. “I’ve distanced myself for centuries. You and the boys are the only ones I care about, and I will _not let you die_ , gods damn it!”

_We were all going to be okay._

You thought about the war, about how many friends he’d likely lost. You thought about Ashella and the dragon brothers.

“You’re right.” You said. “I can’t afford to rely on it. I’ll keep trying.”

“Good.” He straightened himself out. “Now. On to physical combat.”

 

* * *

 

After the training finally ended, you were exhausted and ready to crash, but Grillby insisted on rewarding you. He let you shower in his bunk while he made food and opened the bar.

The brothers had things they needed to do, so they wouldn’t be joining you today-- but you were okay with that. You wanted to talk to Grillby alone, anyway.

You helped around the bar after you ate, and when there was a lull in business, you sat down and motioned him over to you. “Can I talk to you about some stuff?”

“Of course.” He answered, surprisingly earnest. “I would have hoped you’d known that.”

“I’ve just… got a lot on my mind.”

“I noticed. I’m sure the boys did, too.”

You winced. “Yeah.”

“So, where do we start?” He asked warmly. “Do you need a drink, or is this a question best approached while sober?”

You paused. “I don’t know. Grillby… I had a dream last night. About Ashella, and Torby, and Pyric…”

“Ah, you did?”

“I think I know what happened to them.” You continued.

Grillby was silent for a moment.

“I thought… maybe it might give you closure as well, if I told you… and maybe you could tell me if it makes any sense.”

Grillby took a deep breath. “I’ll listen, but don’t let this be about me. War is a… heavy burden. If you know what happened to them, I would understand not wanting to talk about it.”

“I want to. Just… not with someone who won’t understand… you know. Who they were. What their deaths meant.” You paused. “You knew them. They were your friends, right?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “I… yes, I’d like to know how they died.”

You nodded and caught him up. Ashella’s capture, the brothers’ arrival. The torture, the mages. The plan.

“Ashella refused to deal the death blow for the longest time. She held out until the torturers were on their way back. She knew they wouldn’t get another chance. None of them were strong enough to handle more torture without dying. If anyone got out alive, she’d have to do this.”

“Gods…”

“So she finally did. She had to use her magic, because her cell was across the aisle. She cried because she could feel them dying, but couldn’t hold them, or try to do anything to make it not hurt…” You took a breath. “Their souls came to her before their bodies could entirely dust.”

Grillby leaned on the bar, his head in his hands. You looked around the bar. Luckily no table needed attendance, so you looked back to him. “Do I need to stop?”

“Did she get out?”

“She did. She… Grillby, it was terrifying. She was inhuman-- but not a monster, either. She boiled people alive in their skins, spat acid onto others, tore gaping holes in flesh… summoned pikes of magic to… impale people, ass first. She left them that way.”

“She was the strongest one of them. The only one who’d taken a life before.”

“I know. But… she didn’t let them assimilate.” You felt your chin begin to quiver and rubbed your face. “She fucking. She gathered their remains up and left, killing anyone who got in her way. She returned to Foothold.”

“She did?”

“She met with a single person. She didn’t know his name, but he was smart. He was in control. She begged him to help, she said that dragons never die and he could find out a way to help them, he had to know. She left their souls with him-- with their remains… and she left. She knew that as long as she lived, they’d keep hunting her, and the monsters would not accept her, wouldn’t believe she hadn’t killed them.”

Grillby looked up. “She was likely right.”

“She went back, to confront a guy named Grand.”

“Yes. Yes, I remember him. He was one of the other Mages. Very jealous of Pyric and Torbernite.”

“He’s the one who instigated the Raid.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Both of you lapsed into silence, stewing over events that hadn’t been entirely relevant in well over six hundred years.

“It’ll be okay.” Grillby said at last. “They didn’t die entirely. You’re still here.”

You felt your face crack into a smile. “Thanks.”

“How about we talk about something much more… timely?” He asked, and you felt a sort of sternness radiating from him.

“Oh, Gods, what did I do?”

“Last night, you were… very unruly and though I have no proof anything happened, I noticed how both the boys were acting around you. Particularly Papyrus. Did anything happen last night?”

“I don’t remember a damn thing, my guy.”

“He certainly does.” Grillby said. “But I also know from how Sans acts around you, as well as his history, that he certainly senses something he wants in you as well.”

“Grillby.”

“All I want to know is if everything’s okay. Are they causing you trouble, are you going to feel pressured-- or, you know, are you leading them on intentionally-- I’m trying to figure out what’s going on without choosing any sides. I value all of you. Just don’t let anyone around here know it.”

You laughed. “No, I’m… not leading them on. Fuck, I thought it was the other way around. Grillby, Papyrus has been fucking _torturing_ me. And it’s led me to be pent up enough to almost take it out on Sans! I just…”

“You’re confused?”

“ _Yes_!” You slapped the bar. “But… confusion aside, I…” You leaned in and whispered. “I want them _both_. Like, not at the same time, but… like Ashella had with Pyric and Torby.”

“Polyamory. That is the word for it, child.”

“Is it weird?” You asked.

“Perhaps.” He answered. “I can’t precisely speak for them.”

“Right. But… fuck, how would I even bring that up?!”

He gestured for you to calm down a bit, and you remembered others were still in the bar. You giggled nervously.

He sighed. “Well, do they know you have interests in a relationship?”

You made a face. “But I _don’t_. I just… kinda want someone I trust not to hurt me. To have sex with. Which is why I wasn’t trying to lead either of them on.”

“Maybe start out with that.”

“Okay, but what do I say _after_ that?”

“If it is just an informal, non-attachment situation, and they both happen to be interested, perhaps they will work it out themselves? That is assuming that’s what they’re looking for as well.”

“So… take the lazy approach?”

“It’s a single path of, I assume, a few. It might lead to less awkwardness. I don’t entirely remember what happened with Ashella and the brothers, so I can’t be of much guidance there.”

“Shit, you don’t remember _anything_ of it?”

“The brothers started out by casually, jokingly wooing her, but it soon became a competition that led to her breaking up a fistfight. She didn’t talk to either of them for over a week.”

“So… she let them make the first move?”

“I have no idea. That’s the extent of my memory.”

You sighed. “I’ll just have to figure it out my way then, right?”

“Of course.”

“Shit.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re an asshole, Fireball.”

“A supportive asshole, yes?”

You laughed. After a moment, you grinned at him. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.” You got up and headed for the door. “I’m gonna head to the house. Talk to you later, Dad.”

You froze when you realized what you’d said.

His laugh thawed you out. “Take care.” He answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: What do the brothers think of Slake? About the prospect of being with Slake? 
> 
> What will they think when Slake tells them the shit? HOW will Slake tell them the shit?


	10. Dating! START!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YOU READY FOR THE EXPOSITION TO END? ARE YOU FUCKING READY?
> 
> Endure this chapter and i'll be throwing in the TWO HUGE SMUT SCENES into the next chapter.
> 
> Fair warning, that means the next chapter will be Entirely NSFW.
> 
> That being said, I can have that Smut chapter out. Today. If you're good. lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After I post this I'm gonna cook myself something little to reward myself, then i'm going to write up/edit the scenes I've been holding onto for like a YEAR now.
> 
> Make sure you're subscribed so you know to look for the new chapter if i get it up tonight instead of after work tomorrow.
> 
> I also decided to condense the two chapters' worth into One Mega Fucc Chapter.

Sans had gone grocery shopping again since you’d had an incredible increase in appetite from how much you were training. He was in the middle of cooking something little, since he didn’t expect Papyrus home for a while.

You offered to help, and Sans gratefully put you to work cutting things up. He wasn’t big on blades he didn’t conjure himself. Too easy to hurt himself by mistake, whereas his own magic literally couldn’t be turned against him.

Or so he said.

The two of you had a riveting conversation about the intricacies of magic, its theories, its implications. Even over the small meal, you both continued to talk animatedly, discussing things and how they affected other things-- and you eventually worked the topic into how to quit using music as your personal crutch.

This inevitably led to more attempts by you to control your magic better-- and more quietly-- to no real avail. The two of you would be busy with that for a while.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus had the stack of reports ready to drop on Undyne’s desk and retreat. The last two times he’d done this, she hadn’t even come out to talk to him. He understood. Keeping the one monster she cared about safe and happy was important. He could certainly understand that desire. However, it still irked him that he had turned into the third wheel overnight.

It had bothered him even more when he started seeing all the dustshed on television. How she’d turned herself into an entertainment commodity when it was everything she’d despised before she started the alliance with Alphys.

He burned at the thought of how the territories of Waterfell and Hothell were in a state of revolt, constantly crumbling under the overwhelming strength and blindness of its rulers. He burned at how the face that had once smiled genuinely at him now only frowned, since she knew he wouldn’t kill her for it.

He was surprised to see her standing outside. He could see Alphys waiting at the door, and knew that she was making sure the exchange she was expecting was both safe and, likely, recorded.

 _IT’S INFORMATION SHE WANTS, THEN_. It soured his mood even further that his once friend would only interact with him over information she needed.

At first, he didn’t give her the satisfaction of making it easy. He was stiff and unyielding during the pleasantries of smalltalk. He was monosyllabic and trite. However, when the questions became more open-ended, he didn’t have the luxury of shrugging her off and he wasn’t so confident that he could tell her it was none of her business.

Honestly, she had information he wanted, as well.

“UNDYNE, WILL YOU TELL ME SOMETHING? FOR HYPOTHETICAL REASONS?”

“I mean, I guess so? If you can at least tell me what’s been going on.”

“I… HYPOTHETICALLY, IF I WERE DEVELOPING FEELINGS FOR SOMEONE, HOW SHOULD I APPROACH THE SITUATION? HOW SHOULD I ADDRESS THE TARGET OF MY AFFECTION, KNOWING THEY ARE PETRIFIED OF THINGS OF THAT NATURE? I SUPPOSE WHAT I’M ASKING… IS HOW DID YOU AND ALPHYS FIND HAPPINESS TOGETHER?”

She stared blankly at him for a moment. Well, she mused, he managed to answer her question with his own. _I know exactly who he’s talking about. Who else could it be?_

“Well…” She would have to play nice to be able to get more information-- that’s what she kept telling herself. However, the idea of Papyrus in such an awkward situation as that made her want to help. Alphys had been the best thing that happened to her, and-- benefit of doubt!-- if he _wasn’t_ talking about the human…

“Okay, so. Here’s the deal. Communication. Spend time together. Keep them safe. And if you feel safe to it, open up to them. That’s a sure way to tell them they matter. It’s like saying _hey here’s this ammunition you can use against me. I’m gonna trust you not to do that because I feel like you won’t do it_. I mean. Unless they’re not from around here.”

Papyrus grinned. “SURELY THERE ARE MORE… STRAIGHT-FORWARD WAYS OF COMMUNICATING THIS WITHOUT MAKING THEM FLIGHTY.”

“I mean, you could flirt with them, see if they’re into it.”

He blushed. _Oh my god, he’s BLUSHING!_ “Oh, hell. Okay. Okay, I see now.” She was laughing her ass off now. “Alright, then. Just. Fuck ‘em.”

Papyrus sputtered. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN JUST FUCK THEM?!”

“Your face says that you know they’re interested. So just go with it. If they mean a lot to you and they ask you to stop, I mean, yeah, stop. But seriously, a good fuck might be all it takes to make them feel like they wanna be yours.”

There was something in Undyne’s voice that Papyrus ignored. As well as the reminiscent expression she wore. Yep, that wasn’t awkward at all.

She snapped out of it. “Also, if you can get them to admit it, to ask for it, I mean--”

He blushed again.

“Oh, you dirty fucker, you. You had them _begging_ and didn’t fuck them?”

He looked torn. “ALCOHOL WAS IMBIBED.”

“Ah, that explains a lot.” She said. “Hell, that makes it more fun sometimes.”

“NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME.” He argued. “I WOULD RATHER THEM WANT ME WHILE SOBER. HOWEVER… THEY DON’T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, that’s a bummer. Hey do you want an aphrodisiac for them?”

“THAT IS LITERALLY THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT I WANT. I WANT THEM TO CHOOSE ME WITHOUT ANYTHING ALTERING THEIR INHIBITIONS!”

“Well, then, I suggest you talk to them.”

He shrank back.

“Or grow a goddamn backbone and go seduce them. Use your imagination. Pick up on little things they like. Just… be creative and firm and _you_ and they’ll fall into your lap, buddy.” She coughed. “Okay. So. That got a bit out of hand, I’m sorry.”

Papyrus spoke softly. “You haven’t told Him yet, have you?”

She didn’t even appear startled. “No. We haven’t. Inconclusive evidence and all.” She sighed. “So I was right? That was who it was?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Paps, don’t get too attached. I’d hate to have to kill your bondmate on live television.”

He flinched. “I’LL DO WHAT I LIKE.”

She nodded. “I understand, Paps. I’ll try… I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t come to that. If you care about that rat as much as you say, it’d be a shame to drown it.”

“YOU’D LOVE THEM, TOO. IF YOU… YOU KNOW.”

“Duty calls, Paps. I’m not far enough away to pretend I don’t hear it.” She said, and patted him on the shoulder. “Now. I’m going to go have her make our conversation inconspicuous on the tapes, and _ahem_ convince her that it’s the best thing to do. My day’s full, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“Thank you, Undyne.”

“Shut up with that. I’ll still have to kill ‘em.”

They went their separate ways, both smiling and much more content than before.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was peaceful, with bits of comfortable chatter interspersed.

You had to ruin it. "Uh, guys, can I talk to you about something?"

They both agreed and stared expectantly at you. You gulped. This was a bad idea.

"Ssssssssso… um…" You started to tell them nevermind, but then you steeled your backbone. You had a right to speak about yourself! No amount of awkwardness should hinder that!

No, but common sense _should_.

"Okay. So I’m uh… thinking of doing the dating thing, kinda. Not really. Ugh, it’s like… I need someone I can experiment with who isn’t going to develop feelings for me."

Silence continued and you, against better judgement, continued. "There are a couple of monsters I’m interested in and I’m considering pursuing. It’ll just be… kinda scary, y’know? Getting back out there."

Sans and Papyrus traded looks. "WE’RE HERE TO SUPPORT YOU. WE DON’T TRUST ANYONE AROUND HERE, BUT… IF YOU NEED US, WE ARE HERE."

"yeah, exactly. and just know that if anyone hurts you, we’ll kill ‘em. simple as that. provided you don’t beat us to it, of course."

You grinned sheepishly. They had no idea who you were interested in. Holy shit.

"I just… need to find someone I trust to not hurt me in the first place. That’s the whole reason I want this, I think. I never had… that in a context I control."

The brothers nodded. "WE WILL DO OUR BEST TO NOT… WHAT IS THE PHRASE?"

"Cockblock me?" You provided.

"I SUPPOSE THAT WORKS. I WAS GOING TO SAY SOMETHING MORE ACCURATE OR…"

"the world will never know." Sans said.

You laughed, and the tension finally broke. They still had no idea you were talking about them-- but maybe Grillby was right. If either of them were even interested, maybe they’d do the hard part for you.

Dinner continued over yet more pleasant conversations-- but Sans and Papyrus hid their anxiety well.

They didn’t even have to tell each other, this was a conclusion they’d obviously come to. Whoever these "suitors" would be, the brothers would keep close tabs on. And gods help them if they harmed you.

 

* * *

 

Sans sat at the door, hoping his occasional knocking would rouse Kid. He needed someone to talk to who had absolutely no leverage over him.

"c’mon, i know you’re back there."

"It’s funnier to have you just knocking away to no reaction."

He chuckled, relief showing. "how you doin’, kid?"

"Mom taught me how to make snail pie yesterday. I’m really proud of myself; it was good. Like, if there were leftovers, I’d offer them. _That_ good."

He smiled. "so how old are ya? twelve?"

Kid made an indignant noise. After a long pause, though… "I don’t know. I guess… maybe fifteen?"

 _shit, i can’t talk to ‘em about wanting the human_.

"But also? Like, I have some experience. Like I’ve been around for centuries."

 _yeah, no. "i’m mature for my age" means nothing here_.

"So what’s eating you, bonehead?"

"how do you know i’m a skeleton?"

"I didn’t until now. You use too many bone-related puns to be anything else, honestly."

"then how’d you know my name before i told you it?"

A longer pause. "Can I interest you in a bribe? Maybe a slice of pie?"

He laughed. "the hell? just tell me what’s going on."

"I could say the same for you. Mom said you only come down here when you have questions you can’t answer, or just need someone to talk to. So spill."

"not having this particular talk to a kid, no offense."

"Cut out the gross bits then. What’s the heart of it?”

He thought for a moment. "ok. think i can do that."

"You’re smart, I believe in you."

"loving the sarcasm."

"Quit stalling, get on with it."

He took a deep breath. "ok so. i’m into someone. nothing hardcore, i guess, just… we spend a lot of time together, i wanna keep them safe. that kind of thing."

"Okay, so what’s the problem?"

"they said they’ve got their eye on someone-- mainly because they don’t want anything serious, just someone they trust..."

"Do they trust you?"

He paused. "i think so."

"So why not go for it?"

"wha--"

"They said, specifically, someone they trust, right?"

"but you don’t understand--"

"I understand perfectly. You found someone who is fricked up like you, someone who makes you see humanity for something better than you thought, makes you see monsters as something better than you thought."

"i never said it was--"

"And if they’re looking for an outlet to take away the pain of a past experience that went wrong-- you know enough about that to be there."

"did your mom tell you--"

"No she didn’t, and shut up. This is important."

He was silent for a moment. Kid chuckled. "Okay now that I have your undivided attention. In the books, people who say they don’t want love are the ones starved for it the most."

"those are just books."

"Fiction is based in fact, dillweed." Kid retorted. "It’s likely that if they trust you, enjoy being with you, it’s only gonna be a gateway to them falling harder and faster than they can catch themself."

Sans was silent for a long while. Finally, "you’re fucking _fifteen_."

Kid guffawed. Sans grinned. Kid’s laugh sounded just like the Lady’s. Just a bit deeper.

"I’m a **kid** , yeah. But I’m smart when it comes to matters of the heart."

"yuck, you’re gonna be the acoustic guitar-playing sensitive type later on in life, aren’t you?"

"I can charm someone without saying a word."

"heh. prove it."

"Nice try, doofus. There’s a door here and you’re old."

"heheheh ya got me. thanks, by the way. never thought i’d ask a kid for love advice but… i’m glad i did."

"Don’t get sappy. Go on, go ask them out! Make it nice!"

Asriel sighed in relief after Sans was gone. Maybe he’d forgotten all about the unanswered questions.

He knew it was only a matter of time before his identity came to light. He just wanted to make sure he had pieces secured in the puzzle beforehand.

There was an old phrase in the Underground. "Don’t kick with your weight-bearing leg."

He could wait to have a leg to stand on first.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus decided to take a trip to the Capital. Perhaps he could find something nice in the bigger stores. A nice gift, or clothing that would fit you better than his and Sans’ hand-me-downs. He left a note to tell Sans he’d be back that night and to just take you to Grillby’s.

Upon reading the note, however, Sans got an idea.

 _if i wait any longer, i’ll lose my nerve._ He admitted to himself.

You had been out in your clearing, and came back in while he was cleaning himself up in the bathroom. Not that he didn’t bathe often enough, it’s just he didn’t usually anticipate possibly being close to anyone.

You saw him come out of the bathroom and hitched an eyebrow at him.

Okay, maybe he _didn’t_ bathe enough if that was your reaction.

“paps is out till late tonight. wanna hit the bar with me?”

You hesitated. “I could cook something, if you want.”

“slake, i’m buying. wasn’t even suggesting alcohol, either. let’s just get a good burger and see where the evening takes us.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. _Is he… asking me out?_

You grinned at him wolfishly, feeling that thrill in your stomach. If he _was_ asking you out, you had a feeling he knew exactly what he was getting into. “Maybe one drink wouldn’t hurt, right? Take the edge off the cold?”

Sans chuckled, his voice deep and husky as he appeared right in front of you. You didn’t back up, leaving him close enough he could almost bite you. “hmmmm.” You shivered. “hope you’re hungry.”

_He had no idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO um HOW EXCITED ARE YOU TO BONE BOTH SKELES?!
> 
> TOP SECRET MESSAGE:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I'll write a dnd episode for this fic. give me time to work it in somewhere and i'll do it.


	11. When You Take the Phrase "FUCK YOU!" Too Literally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YOU READY FOR THIS?! YOU READY?
> 
> okay im really hoping this lives up to the hype. it's been in my docs for over a year, no lie. it's not the only smut scene i still have left, either.
> 
> WARNING: THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER IS LITERALLY NOTHING BUT SMUT. NSFW AS FUCK.
> 
> Enjoy these twelve pages of porn!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you need to skip this chapter, just know that Slake has as of now visited Waterfell, has discovered feelings for both Sans and Papyrus (which they're REJECTING VERY HARD), and there will be a dnd chapter in the future. I have a lot of planning to do.

The atmosphere wasn’t as comfortable as usual-- mostly because the two of you were sitting in a booth like regular customers. Other patrons were there, too, and when you came in, you could feel their aggravation like waves.

They were pointedly asserting that they were finishing their goddamn card game this time, thank you very much. And anyone short of Asgore himself who tried to interrupt was going to have their face caved in.

You both ordered burgers with a side of fries to split between you. The two of you sat there almost awkwardly for a moment before Sans decided to start showing you parlor tricks.

“wanna see what you can learn to do?” He asked.

“Surprise me.” You said, smirking at him.

Sans fanned his fingers out, and above his hands, phantom hands materialized. They looked just like his own, just translucent with a bluish glow. “ok, so wanna see what you can do with them?”

You had a couple ideas, but you figured he didn’t mean _that_.

"mind in the gutter, huh?"

You cleared your throat. “You’ve yet to really surprise me.”

He chuckled, and the hands glided through the air, unseen by the other patrons. One dog’s tail was close to another’s chair, and Sans gave it a rough pull. The dog yelped and backhanded the dog he assumed did the tugging.

At the same time, another hand goosed a female dog’s ass, and she turned to full on deck the dog nearest her-- who happened to be her husband. She rushed to apologize, but Sans goosed her again on the other side, and she turned and punched the other dog-- Doggo, was it?-- right in the nose. He panicked and ended up running outside screaming about being hit by a ghost.

“That wasn’t funny.” You said.

“they pissed on my jacket once when i left it in the bar.”

You paused. “Okay, now it’s kind of funny.”

Both of you snickered at that. “Hey, hey, lemme try.”

“heheheheh, you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Not at all, but gimme a chance.”

You lay your hands on the table palms down and tried to visualize another set of hands over them. At a loss for other ways to do your magic, you hummed a little bit, low in the back of your throat. Maroon magic coalesced above your hands and you looked up at Sans excitedly.

“I did it!” You whispered!

“calm down there. now whatcha gonna do with it?”

God, you had so many ideas for this shit in the future. You let the hands fade away. “Nothing here.”

“aw come on, slake.”

"Not right now." You said as firmly as you could. "Not in public."

Grillby was tending the bar, the others were casting pissy glances at you. This was not a good atmosphere he was setting up, but honestly, you were still having fun.

The food had arrived, along with drinks. Grillby gave you an encouraging smile before backing off to return to the bar.

You dug into your bottle before the food, though you were unsure as of yet if that were a good idea. At least it was the pleasant golden kind and not the Molten Lightning.

“just curious, though, what you’re gonna do with those hands.” He said, grabbing the mustard and pouring it all over the fries.

You grabbed the ketchup and stared him down. “Maybe I’m waiting until we’re alone, Sans.” You drowned the fries in ketchup. He didn’t seem too perturbed.

His voice was low, his sockets empty. "c'mon, lemme tease ya a bit. after all...." he grabbed one of the fries that was covered in ketchup and mustard and his tongue folded over it, dragging it into his maw. "i like seeing you **tongue-tied**."

You growled at him, but it didn't dissuade him. His grin grew wider and you felt phantom hands press against your thighs, bypassing the clothes altogether and chilling your skin, causing goosebumps to creep across your exposed arms.

"got a question for ya, slake. are your scars sensitive?" He was touching the scars on your thighs and you held your breath. They weren't sensitive, no... but he was touching the inside of your thighs, his fingers dangerously close to--

_fuck that was too close and you were too sensitive._

"mmmmm, c’mon. answer me. i wanna hear you."

You bit down on a whimper, snapping your teeth at him. “If one of us is gonna be in control, I’ll be damned if it’s not me.” You sneered, and for a brief moment, Sans felt a thrill of fear. You stood up and grabbed him by his coat.

To his merit, he let you drag him out. He chuckled to himself. Had he made a deal about being heavy, it would have made the others think you were weak.

He’d expected you to drag him to the house but you threw his back to the storefront roughly. "You wanna make this an exhibition, huh? Fine." You said, pinning him to the wall with your body. He wasn’t ready when you kissed him fiercely, growling against his mouth. When you came up for air, you were violently grumbling. "First you follow me around until i'm afraid to be alone and now you... ah… I can't do this here." You said at last.

Hell, you weren't sure you could do it at all.

He chuckled against your collarbone, "you want, i can take us somewhere... nicer." You were caught between pushing him away, denying the smug bastard-- and demanding he do just that. You didn't decide quickly enough and felt his sharp teeth graze your flesh. "i can take you anywhere. to places you never dreamed."

You were sure he was only half talking about location, but you couldn't deny the heat of hell itself coursing through your veins. "Just do it." You demanded roughly, leaning to gnaw on his neck. He let out a pant, and then a low groan when your warm, wet tongue soothed the scrape of your blunt teeth.

He focused on a place to take you. Which way did he mean that? Gods, he had to decide quick or he'd _take_ you right here!

There was a tiny cave in waterfell, blocked by a wall of water. That would work for now.

You felt the absence of chill and relaxed against him. He tried to lay you down but you flipped him, straddling his waist. "Im at no one's mercy!" You said, voice low and dangerous. There was the slightest bit of fear in him before it melted away at your touch.

Almost gently, you stripped him of his clothes, kissing areas you uncovered. You had been holding back all these weird feelings and urges for days-- weeks?-- now. You didn't care if it was wrong, you just needed to be in control, you just needed to feel empowered

"slake." He whispered, his fingers grazing your scalp so lightly. "ah, god."

You bit down gently on his lowest rib, to test his reaction. He groaned and you bit down harder, satisfied when he became louder. You had been stripping yourself, too and were touching his pelvis, which you'd bared roughly. He was looking at you a bit lost, but huffed and shrugged the slightest bit. "i’m gonna trust you know what you're doing." He managed to say.

You certainly did. Your wild grin seemed to encourage him as he summoned another phantom limb. You didn't waste any time. You stroked him while simultaneously touching yourself with the other hand. He was getting quite the show and he could barely get a word out.

You straddled his legs and looked down at him victoriously. He summoned a phantom hand that reached down your stomach to begin exploring your body. He was slow enough to either qualify as gentle or shy, and from the look in his eye, you assumed it was the former. "cold feet?" He asked and you laughed harshly.

You lined yourself up with his cock and began to work down on it. He hissed and his non-phantom hands grasped your hips. You groaned and forced yourself further down with a gasp. You let yourself adjust as he kneaded your hips, afraid to move because you looked so... shattered. You ground yourself down on his hips, making him gasp and throb within you.

You needed to bury these feelings under physicality, right? He made you feel safe, even in a situation like this. For all you knew, this was the fucking wilderness of the Underground. It was beautiful, the blue glow making it easier to ignore the feelings you could still read on his face.

Again you ground against him and his grip on your hips faltered. He reached up and touched your face, wiping away a tear. The look on his face stirred something in you but you refused to admit it. You could do this. You'd been this character all along, the one who lived for this. But Sans saw through you. He’d seen your soul, hadn't he? _He knew you._

His arms laced behind you as he sat up. "lemme make you happy." He said, looking up at you while you danced on his lap.

You didn't know how to handle this. This was not what you were used to. Where was the pain? Where were the insults? You felt his teeth press against your pulse, felt his hot breath sigh over your bare flesh. You expected the pain, but it didn't come.

He helped rock you in his lap, the thrusts shallow but quick. "what can i do?" He asked softly. "how can i make you happy? how can i make you mine?" He asked, and you felt him wrap you in his magic.

You didn't even struggle, and he could feel you giving your will over to him in trust. "I need you, Sans." You whined.

He needed to be closer to you, needed you to feel safe. He laid you down on the ground softly and kneeled over you. You weren't sure what was more frightening: that you trusted him or that after this you would have to admit it.

His fingers traced your scars, and you reached out to trace the crack on his skull. He made a small noise and you were afraid it was discomfort. He leaned into your hand when you went to pull away.

You felt him pressing into you too slowly. "More." You pleaded, trying to wrap him with your legs, but he still held them with his magic.

He grabbed your wrist and his tongue darted out to lick your palm. Unexpectedly, that proved to be a sensitive spot for you. He let go of your wrist, watching your face carefully for any sign of discomfort.

He stopped his progress inside you and you groaned in frustration, and in the middle of your protests he hilted himself, causing you to cry out and clutch at his shoulders.

He leaned in over you as he began to thrust punishingly hard. His movements were slower than you were used to, but he was larger than you’d had before. You wanted him to go faster until you couldn't think-- but you also couldn't look away from his eyes now.

The glow of the light contrasted with the intent red pinpricks. He chuckled at your expression and leaned down to kiss you. When he pulled up again, though, he was intent. He was studying your reactions curiously, and moved to angle differently. Suddenly, you felt him pressing perfectly, and you reacted in kind. His grin returned, almost malicious and entirely smug.

He was going faster, pounding into you in a way that had you gasping for breath only to expel it with his name. There was begging involved, you would later recall.

He could feel you nearing as easily as he could hear you. When you couldn't hold on any longer he released his hold on your legs and ground mercilessly into that spot that made you scream.

It worked. You were seeing stars and you would be hoarse tomorrow.

You clutched at him, shaking, gasping as he completed you. His pace quickened for a couple thrusts and he chased his own end. With a choked gasp of your name he gathered you in his arms and the two of you shuddered together.

"That was... the weirdest hate-sex... I've ever had." You sighed against his skull.

Sans chuckled. You were so deep in denial that _he_ could see it.

He felt you relax in his arms and he felt his chest grow calm. He was just going to close his eyes for a moment. Just for a--

 

 

\--You both must have fallen asleep. He was out like a light, and you managed to disentangle yourself. You started toward home after getting dressed.

You had no idea where you were going until you homed in on familiar magic signatures. Luckily, no denizens of Waterfell were out and about, or you would have had witnesses to your walk of shame. If you could call it that.

You weren’t ashamed of what you’d done-- you were ashamed of the feelings you felt. Emotions were what got you into your situation. They’re what kept you with Ko, what led you to kill him.

You weren’t ready to reconcile yourself with your body. You were struggling to find out what _you_ wanted from things going on around you. The easiest way to start that process seemed to be by taking back things that were taken. The control, the passion, the freedom of enjoyable sex.

You were still starved for touch, even though you don’t think you’d ever come that hard before. You were still hungry because you could experience what you wanted. You could say no. You could be forceful and needy if you wanted.

There was a particular freedom in that.

It seemed the name “Slake” didn’t just imply the quenched thirst for blood or revenge… but also, perhaps, a struggle to quench other needs that even now were burning you alive. A thirst for control over a power you never knew you had.

You only hoped that you hadn’t fucked everything up with Sans. Even aside from the maelstrom of feelings you found for him, you hoped he’d still want you as a friend. Maybe for a round two, someday.

Home was on the horizon, and a shower sounded fucking delicious.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus paced in front of the stove. Neither you nor sans had come home last night. That in itself was worrisome, doubly so because… Well, for all he knew, you were hurt. Sans could take care of himself, yes, but if he were trying to take care of you, too...

The door opened and you walked through.Papyrus noticed you smelled different. He growled low in his chest, but you neither heard nor saw him as you walked up the stairs toward the bathroom. You looked absolutely miserable. But you smelled.... delightful. Papyrus wondered why that could be?

Undyne’s suggestions had made him think. He knew what you smelled like when you were aroused, when you were desperate. He knew he’d been building you into a fervor lately. He loved that lidded, outraged look you would give him. It set him on edge, made him imagine what it would be like to ravage you.

But you didn't smell of the bitterness of unfulfilled desires now. You smelled like sex and sweat.

He burned, following you up the stairs after you'd gone into the bathroom.

_Who?_

_Who did you choose?_

He growled and tried to control himself, standing in front of the door. Carefully, silently, he opened it and walked in. You were already showering, but you didn't sing. Instead, he could swear he heard you muttering to yourself, broken by huge, aggravated sighs. He moved closer to the shower, waiting patiently for you to notice his presence.

You didn't.

He watched your silhouette through the curtain, watched your hands scrub at your body, taking away the smells of your desire and the smell of another person.

"Quit thinking about it." You demanded of yourself firmly. "Just... ignore it, and it will go away."

Papyrus was convinced for a moment that you were talking about him.

"Just... sing it out, and it will go away." You started singing, and Papyrus stood there and listened contentedly. You really did sound lovely, with the acoustics in here.Haunting, even.

He wondered what you would sound like as he’d please you. How you’d sounded, possibly, with whoever you’d previously fucked. Unknowingly, he let out another growl, and your movements and song stopped.

You moved the curtain and moved it aside, glaring out at him. He met your eyes without fear. "How long have you been there and _why_ are you there?"

He thought fast. "You were hogging the shower so I thought I'd help."

Yeah, that sounded right. He noticed a shiver at his voice and remembered you enjoyed his soft-spoken sounds.

You scoffed to hide the effect and shook your head. "Then why are you standing there like an idiot?"

Were you.... inviting him?

Apparently so, and he didn't give you time to rescind the invitation. He took off his clothing and armor and set it aside quickly. Hopping into the shower behind you, he could feel your warmth radiating. He wanted to touch you, explore you, now that he could see you in your full glory.

"So why are you _really_ in here?" You asked flatly as you scrubbed at your scalp. He moved closer to you, wanting to drink your warmth in.

"Am I not enough?" He asked low. "Am I unsatisfactory enough that you had to go find someone better?" You made a noise but he couldn't figure out what had happened until you scrubbed at your eyes. From shock, you'd opened your eyes and gotten soap in them.

"Not really what happened. Also, if you'll recall, we haven't done shit."

He laughed. "I could hear you in the other room that night."

"So you’ve been interrupting me getting off on purpose?" You growled.

"I would have let you continue if you asked."

You pushed him with a snarl. "Fuck off."

He laughed again. "Aside from that, I know better."

You were glad the water was getting colder.Your face felt a bit warm. Surely he didn't hear you murmuring names or anything. Or, even worse, was it about what had apparently happened when you’d been drunk? You didn’t even know what happened! He couldn’t hold that against you!

He closed in and smirked. "We've done more than enough." He tapped your temple with the tip of a pointed phalange.

Ugh, you had to play it cool. Don’t let him see you’re embarrassed. "Wanna keep that finger?" You spoke flatly, eyes blank of emotion.

"Do you have a better place for it?" He retorted, coming even closer. The cold water made you shiver, and he was warm. That was _definitely_ the only reason you didn't back away.

He touched your body reverently, the natural roughness of his bones turning gentle touches into light scratches. It felt heavenly across your skin. "Are you clean?" He asked, and you felt his hand snake down to the apex of your thighs. He chuckled darkly against the top of your head.

You shuddered, but not entirely from the cold. He seemed to remember human limitations and reached around you to turn the water off. Throwing the curtain open, he stepped out and grabbed a towel. You went to take it but he made a noise in his throat and you rolled your eyes but let him towel you off. This was another of those things you just didn't know how to handle, honestly.

You waited until he was done, and then went to return the favor, but he was already dry somehow-- there wasn't even a puddle under him. You were confused but didn't ask. You were tired of the standard excuse of "Magic."

You tried to reach for your clothes but he grabbed your arm and sighed. "You just got clean. It would be a shame to put on dirty clothes. Especially since they smell like you rolled in sex."

He gave you a tug and you hesitantly complied. He led you to his room and ushered you in.

"Don't mean to disappoint, you Paps, but..."

"I don't expect you to do anything you don't want to." He said. He shut the door behind you, a wicked smile spreading on his face.

"If you'd let me finish, you fuckweasel."

His expression was the definition of consternation. Perhaps if he would have let you "finish" you wouldn't have felt the need to find someone to finish you?

You were talking, oh! He needed to listen.

"If you'd listen, I was _about_ to say..." You looked up at him with a malevolent smirk, teeth bared. “I don't play fair, and I don't sub."

 _What does that mean?_ He asked himself.

You saw his confusion and cracked up."Get on the bed, dumbass." Despite the insult, he could tell by your tone and the look on your face that you were enchanted by him.

 _How does he do that? How does he look like that?_ You wondered. You had noticed that he didn't seem nearly so expressive around anyone else, even Sans, so perhaps...

You waited until he was on the bed and then followed him, climbing up after him and looking at him.

 _What does the book say? Suddenly I have no idea what I'm doing._ Papyrus' inner monologue was drawn to observing your body as you taunted him with it.

He was about to lose his nerve until he remembered the scent of someone else on you, setting his body to burning again. Maybe if he pleasured you well enough... maybe if he bit you, left his mark... maybe the other person would get the hint. Maybe they would leave you alone. Leave you to him.

He pasted the same false confidence over his actions and reached for you. You moved forward on your knees. He realized you were humming low in your throat, and could feel the touch of your magic on him.

What were you doing?

His breath caught, feeling your magic, like smoke, wrap around his bones. He couldn't move but he was shaking now. The sensation bordered on ticklishness.Your magic was seeking his.

He obliged, summoning the phantom limb You were much more patient than you'd been earlier, so you decided to tease him. Give him a taste of the torture he'd put you through over the weeks of building your arousal up only to keep you from finishing at every turn.

And so, tease him you did, keeping him restrained with your magic, the hum doubling as a way to torture his cock as you slid it into your mouth. It was a good thing he was restrained because he couldn't help but try to buck into your mouth.

He hadn't been prepared for this kind of attention. Hell, to be honest, he still had no idea what to expect. Luckily for him, you knew exactly what you wanted and how to get it-- and even more luckily for him, it involved him feeling pleasure as well.

You worked his cock until he was desperately struggling against your magic for more control, and you laughed and withdrew, watching him buck into the air. He let out a growl that bled into a whine.

"You gonna apologize for being a total asswig to me?"

"I have done nothing wrong." He panted.

"Wrong answer!" You sang and moved further away from him, smile triumphant. Your magic still kept him from moving to reach for you, to even reach for himself.

"Agh! What did I do?" He asked pleadingly.

"Exactly what I'm doing now." You said with a devilish smile.

Realization crashed into him. "You're going to leave me here like this, aren't you?"

You shrugged easily. It hadn’t been your intention, but if he was giving suggestions... "I might change my mind if you apologize and I believe you."

"I'M SORRY! I’M SORRY! PLEASE, DON’T LEAVE ME HERE."

You touched his legs softly and he let out a huff of breath. "Hmmm, I'm not sure I'm convinced. Say it again. Quieter." You leaned in and your tongue flicked the head of his cock. He threw his head back and bit down on a sigh.

"Please." He repeated. "Slake, I need you."

You started at that, eyes wide for a moment. How many times in the past few weeks had he called you by name? It was rare, and you’d never heard him say it like _that_. He met your eyes, a look of hunger, of apology. And, though you didn't want to acknowledge it, there was the hint of something deeper-rooted there.

To avoid that look, you turned around and climbed on him. You couldn't do this while looking into that emotion. No, not another heartfelt fuck-session. You couldn't take two in one day.

You needed to convince yourself that you were safe from emotions. Emotions were a prison. Sex was free.

He enjoyed the view of your back, and he realized he could move his hands now. He reached out and caressed the blossoming scars across your back. He didn't know what caused them, but it reminded him of explosions. Like wings would erupt from them at any moment.

You shivered at the gentle touch and tried to ignore it by pushing down on him with your hips. You were still sore from earlier, but now you were painfully aware of how sore you'd be after this. Once you were lowered all the way down, flush against his hips, your legs wavered and you whimpered. You could barely move.

"Do you need help?" He asked, his hands squeezing your hips softly. Again, the roughness of his fingers made you clench a bit, and he throbbed in response.

Hesitantly, you nodded.

He lifted you a bit and leaned up, resting his head on your shoulder as he sat up. _This should be pretty straight-forward, right?_ He thought with a bit of confusion, but he wasn't entirely sure. Whatever happened, he just didn't want to hurt you. So far you seemed just fine, but...

Your legs were splayed on the outside of his, and he looked down your front to see. He was admittedly fascinated by your body and how it fit so well to his. You grew weary of the stand-still and prompted him to do something-- anything.

You ended up on your hands and knees, glancing back at him over your shoulder. "I'm not gonna break. Just... go for it." You, once again, were placing way too much trust in someone you were telling yourself you only wanted sex from..

Cautiously, he explored your body before pressing his cock into you. His breath was ragged as he initiated a pace you could only describe as reckless. You were sure you'd have the imprints of his hips in your ass for months. You weren't complaining. You were too far gone.

You made a mistake and looked back, and he met your gaze again. You'd still, somehow, expected the coldness you'd associated with sex, but… He thrusted deeply and stayed there for a moment. You held his gaze, seeing nothing cold there, but rather a maelstrom of heat.

You looked away at last and he continued the pace, leaning over you now. This changed the angle ever so slightly and now you were suppressing gasps and moans.

"Slake. My Slake." You felt his teeth against your shoulder, his breath on your neck. His voice drifted into a growl. "Mine." He bit down on your flesh and you lost your hold on your voice, the moans emerging unbidden.

Your flesh tasted so sweet to him, and he had to remind himself to not break the skin too badly, lest you bleed out and possibly die. He didn't want that. That wouldn't do. He just wanted to remind you, and everyone out there, who you were with, who was watching over you.

You'd expected the pain to do something else, bring bad memories, anything, but it only furthered your desire because he was still there, whispering against your skin. He was still groaning your name, calling you his.

And as much as the implication of ownership irked you, you couldn't be upset. One of his hands rested atop yours on the bed, and you looked down at it, watching as he laced his fingers with yours and closed his fist over your hand protectively.

It wasn't about ownership, you realized. You felt his teeth graze your flesh again and you whimpered. His other arm wrapped around you and his pace became erratic. His palm splayed over your chest, where he could feel your heart pounding.

You could feel his magic burning against you, Your own reacted in kind, and you felt the tingling, blinding feeling of bliss creeping up on you. "I need you, Slake." He said, unable to put the feeling into the correct words. He couldn't hold on much longer, especially with the way you were moaning and clenching on him.

You gave out a rough cry and collapsed. If he hadn't been holding you up, you would have landed on your face. Suddenly he was taken by force, or so it felt, by a blinding white-hot sensation that swept through his very soul, and he cried out for you, only keeping from collapsing himself by sheer will power.

He panted against your flesh, arms quaking. You were breathing unsteadily, tiny noises wavering on your breath as you let him hold you up. He smiled and nuzzled against the nape of your neck. He struggled to lay the both of you down gently, but...

Well, he did his best.

"fuck, i'm going to need another shower." You groaned after you caught your breath. He pulled you closer. "Maybe later." You amended.

He breathed you in. Yes, you smelt much better when you were with him. That thought satisfied him more than he cared to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought of this chapter. I really enjoyed touching it up, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it!
> 
>  
> 
> And yes, I am going to put a dnd chapter in here later on. Just expect it to devolve pretty quickly. Should I get Alphys and Undyne in on it? I think I should. Maybe Grillby as well. What say you?


	12. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys, let's figure out how this poly relationship is gonna work. Everyone has questions. Everyone has emotions.
> 
> WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: IMPORTANT!!!
> 
> We're gonna be talking about Ko, reader's abuser who they killed. SMALL REMINDER that Ko is literally based on the person who abused me. It's going to get real and scary and bad. This was ALMOST the situation I ended up in. 
> 
> That being said, there will be mentions of pedophilia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I waffled back and forth on this chapter for a long time. It took a lot of spoons for me to write it all out, and I had to scrap the ending of it to change paths. I couldn't write what I originally had planned because I didn't have the energy to.
> 
> Also, it's going to be pretty hard stuff. 
> 
> Don't worry. We'll be getting plenty of Comedy, Fluff, and Smut in the future. I just needed to tie up some loose ends first and put a little more emotional connection. I needed this chapter. I hope you guys get something out of it, too.

Sans woke up and found himself lying alone, covered carefully with his clothes as some effort at keeping him warm.

He wouldn’t have done that, himself. He didn’t feel cold or heat to any extreme.

He looked around for you. With horror, he realized that you had either made it home or gotten lost in Waterfell. Which would be inevitable death.

Keep calm, keep calm. Just go home, check there, maybe you were okay.

When he popped into the living room, he searched for your magic signature-- and found it in Papyrus’ room. You were sleeping, he knew.

Papyrus was cooking, as per the norm. However, he could sense something in his brother that he’d never seen before. Papyrus was _dancing_ as he cooked, and Sans could feel how relaxed he was.

He had a feeling. "paps?"

Papyrus _squeaked_ in shock before whirling to see Sans there.

Papyrus was about to ask _WHERE THE FUCK HE’D BEEN_ but… He could smell you on him. Papyrus’ words died in his throat.

The brothers stood there for a moment, each studying each other.

Finally, Sans couldn’t stand the silence anymore. "bro, did… anything happen? is slake okay?"

"I..." Papyrus stood there, as if petrified. "THIS HAPPENED MUCH… DIFFERENTLY THAN I’D EXPECTED."

Sans sighed. "so…"

"WHAT HAPPENED, IF YOU DON’T MIND."

He kind of _did_ mind. However, he was curious enough to ask in turn. "you were gone, i asked them out, we ate, and then went to waterfell for some… scenic privacy."

"OUTDOORS? SERIOUSLY?" He sighed.

"small cave."

"HONESTLY I AM GLAD YOU DIDN’T COME TO YOUR ROOM. I WOULD HAVE ACCIDENTALLY WALKED IN ON THAT. EVEN IF YOU WERE QUIET."

 _we weren’t._ Sans thought but didn’t say. "So how’d it go with you?"

He blushed and spoke quietly, making Sans hitch a browbone at him. "Err, so they came home and got into the shower. I could tell they smelled different, and I…"

"you followed them into the shower, or did they sing?"

Papyrus was confused for a moment, but then he remembered your magic was tethered to your voice. He’d almost tunneled in on you when you’d started to sing. His only thoughts were of how he had to have you, how much he wanted you to want him as well. "That explains a thing."

"...so?"

"I took them in my room and they, eh… well, they took charge. Made me aware that I might have gone overboard in teasing them lately. It led to other things."

"gotcha." He wasn’t sure if he could bear hearing any more.

The silence stretched, and this time, it was Papyrus who broke it. "THEY HAD MENTIONED THEY WANTED _TWO_ MONSTERS. WE ARE THE ONLY MONSTERS ASIDE FROM GRILLBY THEY’VE EVEN ASSOCIATED WITH HERE."

That was true. "why didn’t they say that to start with?"

"I AM SURE IT WAS FOR PRECISELY _THIS REASON_." He gestured to his brother and then back to him.

"i mean… yeah, that would have been… weird."

Awkwardly, the moment hung there.

"SANS, I DON’T WANT TO STOP."

"me either."

"WE HAVE A PROBLEM THEN. ARE WE REALLY GOING TO… _SHARE_ THEM?"

"not at the same time! just… they seem to want both of us, apparently… and if they trust us enough to want that from us… hell, it means we can keep them safe this way."

"YES, WE WON’T HAVE TO KILL SOMEONE FOR DATING THEM. I MEAN HURTING THEM."

"exactly… but uh… what do we do if they don’t _want_ to choose one of us?"

"I BELIEVE I WILL TAKE A PAGE FROM YOUR BOOK, SANS. LET’S DEAL WITH THAT WHEN WE COME TO IT."

He nodded tiredly. "ok. now, let’s do our best to never talk about this again."

"AGREED."

The door upstairs opened and you came out dressed in one of the outfits Papyrus had obtained for you: a binding tank and comfortable, flannel-lined pants to keep you warm.

You met Papyrus’ eyes and then noticed Sans-- and Sans noticed your neck.

"jesus tap-dancing zombie christ, were you trying to maul them to death?”

If the situation could get more awkward, you thought you’d die.

 

* * *

 

The situation, indeed, got more awkward as you all sat down to have a much-needed talk.

"so, uh… how much of our conversation did you hear?"

"I don’t know, couldn’t make much of it out." You admitted.

"AM I RIGHT? THAT YOU HAD YOUR EYE ON BOTH OF US? WE ARE THE ONES YOU WERE INTENDING TO COURT?"

You looked down, feeling like your face was going to melt off from the heat. "Yeah."

"and you have no intention of choosing one of us, right?"

"I like both of you." You wanted to tell them you trusted them but the words stuck in your throat. Dismally, you remembered your actions made it clear you did, already.

Saying it aloud felt like overkill-- but to be honest you just didn’t want to make it more real by hearing it from your own mouth. Trust, love… the words felt like they were barbed. They were weapons with no hilts, and it seemed they could only be wielded against you.

With how those words were once used against you, you were terrified to use them again. Even deeper, there was a fear of using them _against_ someone.

No one would get hurt if there were no real feelings there. You didn’t have to be scared.

"slake?"

You snapped to attention to find them staring at you worriedly. Your hands were clenched tightly, and there was a thick, sickly heat radiating from you.

"I’m okay." You said tightly, but fooled no one.

"slake, we need to work out what’s going on here. we need your input, and we need to make sure no one gets hurt."

"And what if I _want_ to get hurt?" You touched the bite Papyrus had left.

The brothers both looked uncomfortable at your response. Papyrus especially looked guilty. "WE WERE MOSTLY CONSIDERING EMOTIONS."

"Oh." You looked at them. "What did you guys have in mind?"

"no hitting, for me."

“I DISLIKE SCREAMING AND THREATS."

You stared at them. Okay, that was doable. You couldn’t imagine _wanting_ to do those things. "Noted."

"what about you?"

"Uh?" You shrugged. "I don’t care."

"slake."

"Fine, I don’t like love. Keep it rough, angry, and/or emotionless."

The brothers exchanged glances, both obviously remembering evidence to counter your statement. They let it go, though.

"I’m used to pain and being used, so it doesn’t bother me."

"that’s no excuse." Sans said, face unreadable. "that’s the wrong reason to want that."

You didn’t respond, but Sans maintained merciless eye contact. That was the look of someone who knew what you were doing. You finally nodded. He exhaled steadily and the tension broke.

"SLAKE… MAY I ASK WHY YOU ARE AFRAID OF THAT? YOU DON’T DOUBT OUR INTENTIONS, DO YOU?"

"It’s not that I think you’ll hurt me." You weren’t entirely sure of that, but you rushed to make your point. "I just don’t trust the power that shit holds and would rather not have to deal with it at all." Your voice was firm and resolute. There would be no argument, no further explanation.

No matter what, you couldn’t let yourself be lulled into a false sense of security with them. It was easier said than done, honestly, but if you only remembered how Ko had been when you’d met him, you could do this. At one point, he made you feel safe and loved. At one point, you’d trusted him.

You couldn’t make the same mistake again. The thought of Sans or Papyrus changing like Ko had chilled you-- or was it the sinking feeling that you wouldn’t have the strength to kill either of them if they _did_ change?

Unlike Ashella, you couldn’t bring yourself to the actual action. You would never kill someone you loved that much.

You couldn’t let yourself love.

The brothers noticed your silent, blank stare. Sans had gone through long periods of dissociation after finding a safe home with Grillby. However, they didn’t know how to help you ground yourself.

Sans noticed your soul didn’t appear too dull or murky for once. You were likely just spacing out, thinking, numb. "slake." He said softly.

You blinked and looked at him. "Sorry."

"it’s okay. think it’s time we eat, right? hungry?"

You started to protest being treated like this, but your stomach protested and you nodded. "Sounds about right. I’ll help."

You got up and headed to the kitchen quickly enough that the brothers were still getting up from their seats when you started rummaging in the fridge for eggs.

Papyrus whispered to Sans. "Still dissociating?"

"yeah." He said. "uh… i’m gonna…"

"I’ll take care." Papyrus nodded. "You might be better at handling this particular--"

"kitchen’s _your_ territory. just… help ‘em out for me, ok?"

Papyrus nodded again, and followed you into the kitchen. Sans left for Grillby’s. It was time to pay his tab.

 

* * *

 

The silence drug on for a while. It wore on you but you didn’t know what to say. You’d look at Papyrus, go to open your mouth, and then slam it shut again. Your teeth were starting to hurt from grinding.

"He um. He left these scars on me." You said as you seasoned the eggs.

"He?"

"My… his name was Ko. I killed him. He hurt me for..." You trailed off, counting in your head. "Seven years. Maybe eight. I don’t remember anymore. Is that a good thing?"

Papyrus smiled. "I understand the feeling."

 _That’s right._ You remembered. _They’ve been through hell, too._ You told yourself to quit talking, but it was like your mouth wasn’t getting the memo.

"When I came down here I was so disgusted with myself. Every time I looked in the mirror, I felt like garbage. Like sludge. I’m covered in scars, I chopped all my hair off, and I could still feel his hands and words and..."

You laughed, shock making you sound slightly deranged. Or like you were about to openly weep. "I forgot the other day. I forgot normal people don’t have scars everywhere like this. I forgot that I’m ugly."

"Slake. Who told you you’re ugly?"

"Don’t give me that shit." You laughed. You realized you did indeed sound crazy _and_ about to cry. Your eyes were blurring and burning. "I’m a writhing mass of scar tissue with no hair."

Papyrus turned you around by your shoulders to face him, reached behind you, put the skillet on an inactive burner, and turned off the stove.

You looked away so he didn’t see you crying.

"Slake, do I not fit the same description? Doesn’t Sans?"

Scars and no hair. You bit your lip. "I didn’t mean it that way."

"I know you didn’t. But just as how _we_ look isn’t reduced to those features, neither should _yours_." He gave you a sassy look. "Maybe I’m biased but you pull it off better than Sans."

You found yourself grinning back. "But not you, huh?"

He looked affronted. "IT’S A DRAW."

This time he actually got a laugh out of you.

He pulled you into a hug. “Please tell me if this is too much. You’re just incredibly fun to squish. Like a full-scale stress ball thing. What are those called?”

“Stress balls make sense.”

“Ah. Good. Because I’m awkward enough right now without yet another faux pas on my list today.”

You sighed against him. “You talk funny and I like it.”

“Strange. I’m not even the comedian.”

“Which makes it funnier.”

“It’s my speech impediment, isn’t it?”

“It’s your thought pattern. It’s unpredictable and… creative.”

He was silent for a while before breathing against the top of your head. “That’s actually… the first time anyone’s ever said something like that about me.”

“It’s also cute.” You added.

“NYEH?!”

You laughed. When you pulled back to look at him, you saw how flustered he was. Your grin grew wider. "Go sit down while I cook." You told him.

He picked you up and sat you on the counter. "No." He said quietly against your temple. "I’m not to be outdone."

"Outdone?"

"You looked adorable in my glasses. And in my shirts. It made me want you so much more to see you in those things. It made you smell like me." He paused. "I loved hearing you say my name."

You pulled back a bit to look up at him. You hitched a brow at him. "Okay, I get it, you think I’m sexy."

“ONLY THE SEXIEST."

You snorted. "I’ll have to show you a human magazine someday."

"LIKE THE ONES CAUGHT IN SANS’ DUST TORNADO? I STAND MY GROUND."

You didn’t know what to focus on for a moment. Sans had human magazines in his room? Papyrus was so blase about it-- and despite knowing the epitome of human beauty standards, still saw you as attractive.

"And you are much more attractive than a halloween decoration." You teased back.

"HOLLOW...?"

"Oh god, I’m gonna have a fuckton to show you if we ever get out of this mountain. But only after the subjugation of humanity."

"REALLY?" He actually seemed excited. "YOU SHOULD TELL ME ABOUT THE SURFACE! AND THIS HOLLOW WEENIE THING."

You laughed and lay your head forward on his shoulder. On some level you were surprised Papyrus wasn’t as gung-ho for humanity’s defeat, but then you considered that perhaps monsters had failed him enough to where humans were just an unrealistic facsimile of evil.

Maybe you were what shaped his expectations of humans. You realized you had a power, a choice, in doing this. You could work to make monsters see humans differently.

But why would you redeem a race that failed you? Why would you defend a society that treasured a narrow concept of beauty over functional intelligence? A society that taught some people that they were Wrong or Unimportant for something they couldn’t help, whether it be the color of their skin, who they loved, what they believed, or how little money their family could attain.

Why would you save a system that raised so very few up high at the expense of everyone else?

“Slake, there was one more thing I didn’t mention.” He said, his fingers trailing your spine, softly. “Your scars are very… fascinating. I understand that they are a part of you that you don’t like-- the same as your breasts during training…”

He paused. “Perhaps it’s because I’ve never seen you without them, but…” His fingers traced the edges of a scar. “It shows your strength, your persistence. And overall, I find it beautiful.”

The gentle touches made the hair stand up on your arms and you hummed softly at the feeling. He hummed in answer against your temple, and then you yelped when you felt his tongue flick at the shell of your ear.

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Ko had told you no one would want you with his scars on you. No one would want you because he’d made you ugly like he knew you were.

Papyrus didn’t know.

You pushed him away gently. “Thank you, Papyrus.”

At first you thought he was disappointed-- but then you realized he was worried he’d hurt your feelings or pushed too far.

And, as before, your mouth didn’t want to stay shut. It took palpable effort, though, to dredge up the words. You were terrified to say them because…

“Slake?”

“Papyrus… can I talk to you about something? Can I trust you to tell no one else?”

“What you say stays between us.” He agreed. “And of course you can talk to me about anything. One of the things that makes me great is my ability to listen.”

You smiled weakly, the words still sitting in your mouth like bile. “Years ago, before the beatings got this bad. Before he started leaving marks.” You paused. “I found out he was looking at… really bad things. Fantasizing about children. And I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified that if I left him, he’d start hurting kids, or that if I had kids with him, he’d…”

Papyrus was void of expression for a moment before he took a deep breath and settled a little closer to you. He waited for you to speak again.

“I… I didn’t know what to do. No one would have believed me. No one would have taken my side. And then, I found out I was pregnant. Well… I mean, it was incredibly likely and I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t want a kid with him. I didn’t want him to have that leverage over me and _I didn’t want him to..._ And I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What did you do, Slake?”

“I went to the store and I bought a huge bottle of black cohosh root. It’s something humans can take when their bodies don’t produce enough estrogen, and it helps with things. I’ll explain some other time…” You paused. “But it can abort pregnancies. I took the entire bottle over the course of the next week, and… and…”

“How did he find out?”

“He saw the bottle in my trash that weekend and asked his dad what it was. His dad was a doctor, and told him it was usually for old women trying to get estrogen in their bodies. But, he also told Ko that it could be used to abort pregnancies. So.” You gulped.

“That seems rather circumstantial. Why would they assume that about you?”

“It doesn’t matter. That time it was _true_ and he. He…” You were crying now. “He hurt me. He started scarring me so people could see how ugly I was, what an ugly thing I’d done.”

“It was your choice. It was not ugly.”

“He wouldn’t let me go.” You said. “He didn’t want anyone to see what he’d done, he was ashamed of me. I wasn’t allowed to work, to leave. I just stayed home and tended to his needs whenever he came back. After that, he never let me feel good. He said I didn’t deserve it, and that he was afraid I’d just do it again.”

“He was afraid you’d…?”

“He wouldn’t risk getting me pregnant again.”

Papyrus was a bit confused. There were so many questions he had, but they could wait.

“I hated everything he made me do. It hurt so much but I got to the point where I didn’t feel it anymore. It was just another unpleasant thing that he’d done to me. The cuts, the bruises, the scars, the tearing. I just… I got too numb for him to control, and I waited.”

You sighed against his collar. “I waited for him to make the move that would set me free. I knew the chance would come one day, and it did. It did. He told me to tie him up and please him. Well. He told me to _take control_ but we know what he really meant. I chose to do what _I_ wanted. I…”

You snuggled closer to Papyrus and he gladly held onto you. “I’m so glad I did it, Paps. I don’t regret it a goddamn bit. I’m so glad I killed him.” You paused. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Papyrus held you a bit tighter. He picked you up and you looked up, tears still streaming. You tried to wipe your face off, but Papyrus was kissing you. After a moment’s hesitation, you were kissing him back.

“You don’t care what I did?” You asked when he started walking with you.

“Slake, did Sans ever tell you what happened to us?”

“Yes.” You admitted.

“He didn’t tell the truth.”

You stared blankly at him. He opened the door to his room and then fell back onto his bed, letting you lay on him. You rolled off to lay next to him instead. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t intentional.” He explained. “He just… chose not to remember what really happened. So, do you want to know what actually happened?”

You thought for a moment. “Only if you want to talk about it.”

“I do. As long as it stays between us two.”

“Yes.”

“Let’s begin then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is going to be formatted a little differently. We're gonna see Papy's actual perspective. Because the other night I listened to a song on repeat for hours inspired as fuck to write this horrible, horrible shit.
> 
> Everything's gonna be okay, just let me get this out of my system real quick and we'll be back to the good stuff.


	13. Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THERE IS ABUSE AND HEAVILY IMPLIED RAPE OF A MINOR IN THIS CHAPTER. IT IS ***ENTIRELY SKIPPABLE*** IF YOU CANNOT READ IT.
> 
> Suggested Listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93ByMEx50Zc  
> (this is what is embedded in the first part of the fic, for those of you on mobile)
> 
> IF YOU INTEND TO SKIP THE VERY BAD ANGSTY BIT: You are okay. It's okay to not want to read it.  
> Basically, it's just to show that Sans has altered memories of what happened back then because he's suppressed it, forced himself to forget how bad it actually was. If you need to skip it, search immediately for ***, okay? Take care of yourself and enjoy Undyne meeting Papyrus for the first time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I ALMOST LOST THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER BUT THANKFULLY I RESTORED IT TO THIS AFTERNOON'S EDITS OH FUCK I ALMOST DIED.

Papyrus had woken in a bed for the first time in his life to find his brother kneeling next to it. Sans had a crack under his eye that hadn’t been there before, and his sockets were so tired and relieved that Papyrus instantly felt the exhaustion rolling off him, trying to pull him back into the welcoming oblivion of unconsciousness.

The door swung open, hitting the wall hard. Sans flinched. Papyrus looked at the looming figure in the doorway and then back at Sans, hoping to learn who it was.

"go back to sleep, paps." Sans whispered. The words chilled Papyrus.

The old veteran from the war, Pretchley, had done little upkeep to it since it was built. Just enough to keep it livable. The rest of his pension went toward contraband. Anything he could hoard to sell to the needy or desperate.

The walls were thin in this old house. It meant Papyrus could hear Pretchley’s labored breaths. The crash of a small frame hitting a door or piece of furniture. The small, subdued grunt of Sans, who couldn’t have been older than sixteen, as he impacted.

The tiny, muffled noises of impact were much easier to ignore than some of the others. Sans sometimes screamed out in pain, oftentimes rhythmically. Papyrus wished there wasn’t a pattern to the noises. He got up, crawling to the door to avoid the creaking of the boards, prying the door open by a sliver.

He wished he didn’t see what put the shame in his brother’s voice.

He’d watched in horror, and then in anger. And then in guilt. _This_ was a sacrifice for _his_ health.

Sans noticed him. The yells of pain ceased. He had shut himself down. Papyrus couldn’t look away from his brother’s empty sockets as Pretchley continued to hurt him.

_go back to sleep._

Papyrus shut the door, his hands shaking. The yells continued, but quieter.

_go back to sleep._

He crawled, but his strength was failing him. He gave up and huddled in the floor, weeping as quietly as he could.

The noises had stopped except for Sans crying in the living room. It was over then. For now.

_go back to sleep._

Papyrus woke up in his bed. Sans didn’t come back in, but Papyrus knew Pretchley didn’t enter this room.

He heard the whispers, sometimes. Pretchley speaking in his sleep. "...step away from the window, Mael… back to sleep."

He wished didn’t sleep in Pretchley’s room, but it seemed more often than not he had to.

He heard Pretchley talking to Sans. "Your soul reminds me of an old lover. You like what he liked, don’t you? Yes, it hurts, but isn’t it a good hurt? It’s the blue in you. You belong here."

Sans would just cry.

"Just accept it. With me, you’re safe from pain, and truth, and choice… and all the other poisons of life. They don’t give a fuck about you like I do."

Papyrus couldn’t use his magic well at all. Just like he couldn’t make words. He wanted to protect Sans like he was protecting Papyrus. All he could do was wait and hope that something would change.

What would change? He asked himself often. He imagined Pretchley falling down the stairs and dusting. He imagined an accident in the kitchen. He took a great amount of joy in these daydreams.

The dreams always ended with Sans on his bed, finally embracing him, trusting him, no longer suffering for Papyrus’ sake. Why wouldn’t Sans come see him?

_go back to sleep._

He cried sometimes, but a heavy hand on his door would startle him. "GO BACK TO SLEEP." Pretchley would scream at him. His crying would subside to hiccups, and he’d seek sleep to drown out the noise of fighting downstairs.

His dreams of Pretchley became more morbid, more pleasingly ironic. Like surviving a terribly mutilating accident only to somehow _not_ survive tripping on the threshold to the house, bathing the already filthy and cluttered floor with his dust.

He’d count the dreams. He’d smile.

Still Sans never came to see him while he was awake. Papyrus caught glimpses of him. He looked worse now. He was missing teeth, the crack in his skull was worse.

"I’ll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all their games." Pretchley promised.

What enemies?

Papyrus still never felt his magic surge to support him when he tried to control it. He could wait. He could wait to act until he could…

That night, Papyrus woke to the screams. He threw the blanket aside and got up. His legs shook for a moment but he felt so numb. He felt like he was watching himself from above.

He opened the door, not caring about noise. Neither of them heard him over Sans’ protests.

He descended the stairs. There was a sharp stick and he grasped it with frighteningly steady hands.

He heard something far off as he started running. Something faint, growing louder. Like he was in a tunnel, about to emerge. At last he realized he was speaking, as the makeshift weapon in his clenched fist plunged into Pretchley’s back with a satisfying ease.

He was screaming it over and over as he stabbed Pretchley, once for every repetition. "GO TO SLEEP GO TO SLEEP GO TO SLEEP GO TO SLEEP!"

He couldn’t stop screaming it until his voice was finally gone. He’d lost the sharp thing in Pretchley’s disgusting body, and was hammering on his body with his fists instead until his rage abated.

He quit, tears and exhaustion not quite sinking in until Pretchley let out one last labored breath and scattered into millions of particles of dust.

Papyrus felt the weight of Sans’ horrified stare as he finally collapsed.

Sans crawled closer. "i’m so sorry." He said, gathering Papyrus into his arms. He didn’t let himself cry this time. He had to find a way to get Papyrus safe again. They couldn’t stay here.

_go back to sleep._

Papyrus didn’t dream anymore.

***

They were on the road again, wandering Waterfell. Papyrus didn’t like the whispers of the flowers. They felt too much like the noises overheard from upstairs. Some of the whispers were hopeful, the voices of children wishing for homes. He thought he heard his brother’s voice once or twice from the flowers.

For every heartbreaking wish of family, love, and camaraderie… there were four or five more of death throes, or people making their last testament, bathing the flower in their dust willingly. This was a hopeless place, full of death. Reality was nonexistent and yet cripplingly tangible here.

He was introspective enough as of late. He didn’t need to babble senselessly into a flower. It was a waste of his efforts, when he could be on the watch while Sans slept. Or he could practice his words, but only when Sans was awake.

He still could only speak in a roar, his voice rasping and cracking. He was learning to speak clearly now, though.

His magic was hardly stable. Now with a LOVE, it was even more out of control. He didn’t sleep more often than not, and it made him paranoid.

Waterfell wasn’t safe and there wasn’t much to forage there. They moved on, but problems followed unerringly.

Tundra would be a welcome change. The cold wouldn’t bother them and there were storefronts-- with dumpsters out back, overflowing to pick through.

Sans started falling ill before they made it to Tundra, but Papyrus didn’t know what to do about it. If Sans fell down, what would he do? What would he _have_?

He tried to ignore the problem, taking over more responsibilities, foraging more, comforting Sans after his night terrors.

Papyrus had finally fallen asleep one night and when he woke up a few hours later, Sans was motionless under the snowdrift. Papyrus began to panic.

He understood his brother’s desperation now in a way he didn’t want to.

He went into town, not looking for food scraps anymore, but something powerful. Something that could help. He’d sell his goddamned _soul_ for Sans to be okay.

He couldn’t correctly say Library, but he would sell himself if he had to.

Grillby wasn’t his first choice, but the bar had been his first stop. Other patrons had readied their attacks, but Grillby quelled them and removed them from the bar. He sat Papyrus down, told him to tell him where he came from, where his family was.

Grillby was under the impression that all the skeletons had died in the War. Now one shows up-- a child at that!-- and he says he has a brother but no family. His brother was dying, even.

Grillby thought for a moment. He could let them die. He was under no obligation to help them. There would be no reward for it, ultimately.

But he was morbidly curious about their circumstances. He was also aware that to have someone help him in the kitchen would be welcome. Papyrus was still growing, but Grillby could tell he’d be tall enough to reach the bar counters soon if given food to stabilize his magic and let it give him more form.

And so, for the sake of nosiness, Grillby helped Papyrus dig Sans up and gave them a room together in his house.

In time, Sans served as Grillby’s eyes and ears. No one paid attention to him, even when he brought it upon himself with his raucous jokes.

Papyrus, meanwhile, Grillby took under his wing personally. Training, cooking, and speaking. Papyrus did indeed grow up well. But he was ambitious and protective of this icy place.

Grillby had been having trouble keeping an ear to the ground, concerning the Guard. He had no real obligation to, however it was how he kept his business and his home safe. Under the king’s rule, there would not be so much comfort in this frigid, unforgiving piece of the Underground.

Papyrus had the idea of infiltrating the guard, and being youthful and full of ambition, had rushed off to do it at the ass-crack of dawn, when no one would be awake to stop him.

Sans was waiting for him when he got to Waterfell. Papyrus didn’t question it, just waited for Sans to tell him to go home. But he didn’t.

"not gonna let you go alone." He muttered. "plus i wanna see you do this and get out alive."

Papyrus smiled. His words couldn’t maneuver around his emotions.

"you are the great and terrible papyrus. don’t let them forget that."

The Colosseum loomed ahead. Two Guards stood alert in front of it. Sans watched Papyrus walk past them, and warped to a place where he’d have a good view.

Undyne was gearing up for her matches when Papyrus found her door. She whirled around, spear drawn, only to have it flung from her hands by Papyrus. He worked on instinct, or as Sans would say, _gut_ reaction.

He smiled cheerily at Undyne, who was dumbfounded momentarily.

"I AM THE TRAIT AND GERRIBLE PAPYRUS." He froze. " _I MEAN THE **GREAT**. AND **TERRIBLE**. PAPYRUS._ "

"Dude, stop yelling." She pleaded.

I AM SORRY THIS IS MY ONLY VOLUME I DON’T TALK QUIETLY VERY WELL."

"Can you try? And also WHY THE HELL ARE YOU IN HERE?!"

He managed to dial the noise back by a whopping 1.7 percent. "I WISH TO JOIN THE CHAMPION’S GUARD."

She stared at him. "You’re kidding."

"NOPE."

"Well, I’d say you have balls, but I sincerely doubt it." She laughed harshly as she buckled on her ornate chestplate. This was a different one than usual, he noticed. It was covered in spikes. He pitied the unfortunate souls who she’d inevitably suplex today.

"SO AM I IN?" He asked after a pause.

Tension built and then she made a fart noise. With her face. Papyrus stared at her. "Sorry dude, if you want in, you’ll have to sign up to fight me today. If you beat me, you’re in. If you don’t, well..." she shrugged, "well, you’ll finally be _quiet_."

Papyrus thought for a moment before spinning on his heel and walking out the door.

"Glad that worked. Seems like a good kid. Be a shame to televise his death like that." She muttered to herself. "Though it might be fun to fight him. He’s got promise."

Her hands itched, and she scrubbed at them. They always looked dusty lately. Her mother said that was normal. Didn’t mean she had to like it.

 

* * *

 

Papyrus noted the mute shock on Undyne’s face when he was announced as her challenger that afternoon. He was first off, though the line to fight her had been long.

That was because he was the only _willing participate_.

Undyne was torn. Yeah, sure, she wanted a challenge and this guy at least had good reflexes, but there was no real _gain_ in killing this poor kid. Hell, he was young and dumb enough to want to join the _Guard_ for fuck’s sake!

Her hesitation only lasted a moment. Her position didn’t reward having a conscience. It rewarded violence. Violence, she could do. She’d gone too far to give up now, right?

She should make it quick, at least. She had about two dozen prisoners to impale after this. Save her strength and all that.

After twenty minutes of increasingly heated fighting, however, Undyne admitted she’d severely underestimated this skeleton. The thought occurred to her that if both of them survived this match, she’d watch her back forever, waiting for him to finish her off when she least expected it.

He wasn’t maiming her, or even _aiming_ to, she realized. _And she was trying!_ She couldn’t let this guy toy with her like this was some goddamn training session! She couldn’t let this guy start _actually trying_ to kill her!

She needed to end this quick. He was expecting spears, so she gave him spears, and then she shot around. This was her opening!

"NGAAAAAAAAAH!" She finally got him in a hold from behind, the spikes on her chest piercing his simple leather armor. She felt the scrape of bone on steel, heard him hiss in pain-- and then she crushed him in a bear hug before suplexing him as hard as she could.

The cracking noise was incredible. She felt like she was going to vomit from it. She let go, but her spikes were caught between his ribs and stuck in his armor. If he didn’t dust, she wasn’t getting him off her chest.

She realized this armor, while effective and baddass, was not entirely a good idea if her prey somehow survived.

As for that.

"WOWIE."

"Oh my fucking god." Undyne laughed incredulously. "HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU ALIVE?"

“I DON’T KNOW BUT I THINK I’M STUCK. DOES ANYONE HAVE A CROWBAR?"

"You have got to be shitting me."

"I HAVE NO ASS. THAT IS NOT A POSSIBILITY. WE ARE ALSO NOT CONNECTED IN THAT AREA."

"As soon as you’re off me, I’m going to kill you _painfully_ , just for that smartass remark."

Now that there was a lull in the action, Papyrus looked in the crowd for Sans, found him, and waved spastically at him. Sans was torn between laughing and eating his hands with anxiety.

At home, Grillby shared the sentiment, his bedsheets smoldering in his immediate vicinity.

"I MIGHT HAVE A HEAD INBURY." He yelled to his brother.

The brand-new crack in his skull definitely agreed with him.

She finally managed to pry him off her armor, but some of the spikes came off with him. She stared for a moment.

"Uh, you’re not gonna say ouch, or anything?"

"TIS JUST A FLESH WOUND." He said.

Her face contorted and then she let out a great bray of laughter, falling over, breathless. This was all just _insane_. "Okay, okay, you got me man. I got nothing left. Go on and get me." She said.

He cocked his head at her curiously.

She intended to let him charge, get him in a headlock, and break his neck, quick and easy. That was the best laugh she’d had in years, but work was work.

He just stared. "SO I AM A GUARD NOW? YOU ADMITTED DEFEAT, SO I WON."

"Fuck." She’d meant if he _killed_ her. Hell, she’d felt more peace at the idea of dying than having to employ this bony fuckall. "You stupid? I’m telling you to attack me."

"OH." He stood there awkwardly. "ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO KEEP GOING? YOU LOOK EXHAUSTED."

He didn’t know the half of it.

"IF I CONCEDE MY WIN, WILL YOU ACCEPT ME INTO THE GUARD INSTEAD OF KILLING ME?"

Well at least he wasn’t _entirely_ dumb. "Give me one good reason."

"I CAN GIVE DETAILED REPORTS FROM TUNDRA."

"I have Guards there." She argued.

"YES, AND THEY ARE VERY EASILY KILLED AND TERRIFIED. THEY HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE OF TRAPS. THEIR DEPENDENCE ON SMELL CAN EASILY BE THEIR UNDOING, AND THEY CAN’T STICK TO BUSINESS TO SAVE THEIR LIVES. LITERALLY."

Her mouth was agape and she snapped it closed with a clash of fangs. "You know what? Fuck you. You don’t know a damn thing about--"

"I WAS TRAINED PERSONALLY BY THE CHAMPION WHO PRECEDED YOU."

She paused. "I call bullshit." She thought about his style, realized that there were huge similarities to how her own mother fought. Her mother had trained under the fabled Ghayth. He’d gone off the grid decades ago.

It was plausible, and she didn’t like that. But if it were true…

"Fine. But if you _ever_ make a move on me, I will destroy you and everyone you love."

"OF COURSE!" He agreed cheerily.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! BE SCARED LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!"

"I APOLOGIZE. I AM JUST A REALLY BIG FAN OF YOURS AND I AM MORE HONORED THAN FRIGHTENED. _BUT I CAN PRETEND!"_

She cradled her face in her hand and dismissed him with the other. "Go away before I kill you anyway." She didn’t usually enjoy killing, but right now, killing the two dozen other "challengers" sounded like just what she needed.

 

* * *

 

"You kind of grew on me. Like an annoying mushroom." She told him one day over a glass of tea when he visited to turn in his daily report.

In an effort at camaraderie, Papyrus was trying to not scream so loudly. Undyne appreciated the effort, but both of them could safely admit it wasn’t so much of an improvement.

Undyne didn’t want to like him. So she simply didn’t admit she did. He was useful and his word was worth his weight in gold. Honestly, she’d seen much better results from him than her _actual Guards_.

As to that, she couldn’t keep pretending he wasn’t a full member, himself.

“Paps, what do you do when you have weird feelings in your gut that you don’t know how to explain?”

“PERHAPS IT WOULD HELP IF I HAD A GUT.”

She growled. “Fuck you, man, you know what I mean.”

“THAT WAS A VAGUE DESCRIPTION, ANYWAY. SURE I GET ‘GUT FEELINGS’ BUT SO DOES EVERYONE… RIGHT?”

“Yeah, but what if you don’t know why you’re having them? Like if there’s no one around-- and you know it-- but you still feel like someone’s watching you. Or someone’s talking about you.”

“I WOULDN’T KNOW.” He replied honestly.

She felt a bit bad for the guy. Tundra was a lonely town for someone no one trusted. Ever since he’d become a Guard, everyone else had begun shunning him, except for his brother. Undyne had met Sans once or twice. She didn’t trust him, either. His face gave nothing away and his eyes were too focused for someone so lazy.

Papyrus, on the other hand… well, she depended on him. She’d been talking to him about things she hadn’t felt safe telling anyone else. It made her feel like a monster again.

“I got a message the other day from Alphys, up in Hothell. She suggested an alliance.”

“THAT IS GOOD, RIGHT?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, I guess it is…”

“IS YOUR UNEASE BECAUSE YOU’RE INTERESTED IN HER?”

Undyne floundered. “Wha-WHAT?!”

“SAVE THE THEATRICS FOR METTATON, UNDYNE.”

“Mind your fucking sass and WHY DO YOU THINK I LIKE HER?!”

“YOU NEVER HESITATE ON ANYTHING, UNDYNE. I MIGHT BE UNORTHODOX, BUT I’M NOT AN IDIOT. YOU ARE HESITATING BECAUSE YOU ARE NERVOUS. YOU ARE RARELY NERVOUS UNLESS IT HAS TO DO WITH YOUR EMOTIONAL STATE. YOU HIDE YOUR EMOTIONS WELL-- SO IT HAS TO BE SOMETHING YOU CONSIDER HEAVILY. _ATTRACTION?_ I’D BE WILLING TO BET THE LEFTOVER SHRAPNEL FROM YOUR ARMOR IN MY SPINE.”

“I hate you right now.”

“BECAUSE I’M RIGHT.”

“Because you’re right.” She admitted.

“I CAN ACCEPT THAT. BUT CAN YOU?”

“Save the theatrics for Mettatron or whatever.”

“POINT TAKEN, BUT _CAN_ YOU?”

She paused. “I don’t know, man. Should I go for it?”

“YOU ARE THE CHAMPION. _CALL HER UP AND TELL HER THAT YOU WILL FORM AN ALLIANCE ON THE CONDITION THAT SHE GIVE YOU A HEARTY KISS._ DIPLOMATICALLY, OF COURSE.”

“Shut the hell up and go home.”

“MAY I FINISH MY TEA?”

“You never drink it. Go on, out!”

 

* * *

 

The alliance was great at first. Undyne told Papyrus about all the lovely things she and Alphys did, how she was starting to trust her. Papyrus supported this, even though they were both absolutely terrified of what it could lead to. Any ambition on Alphys’ part would lead to Undyne’s dust joining all those she’d killed over the years.

Luckily, Alphys’ only ambition seemed to be luring Undyne into a romantic relationship.

After that came to fruition, Undyne almost entirely stopped talking to Papyrus. Not that she was ignoring him-- just that she didn’t _need_ him anymore. Alphys was there to listen to her, to support her, to heal her if things went south.

Papyrus was further away...

No, she didn’t need to ignore Papyrus. It didn’t take long for him to learn he was the third wheel.

He turned in his reports less often. After the Riots began, he started just waiting and taking them maybe twice a month.

The people didn’t like the Alliance anymore. It was crippling them, their sense of individuality, their emotional freedom. In a world where you were only allowed to smile and be happy, under penalty of death… why not resist? You’d be dead anyway.

Grillby sat Papyrus down and explained that _this_ kind of thing was why he’d kept his ear to the ground. He didn’t want Tundra to be like that. And he told Papyrus that the time might come where he had to stand up to Undyne to keep things the way they were.

Papyrus decided that it was important, that the way life was in Tundra was worth protecting. Of course, that was why he’d joined the Guard anyway-- but now he did it with the Full Picture in his view.

He’d thought that life would just continue to be monotony interspersed with fear of the peace ending and Tundra becoming a dustbath like everywhere else. But then…

 

* * *

 

Papyrus looked at you and smiled. “I’ve been in this listless pattern for more than three years. I learned how to quiet my voice, how to control my magic. However, I am still terrified that I won’t be enough to protect Tundra.” Even quieter, he continued. “Or you.”

Unlike Undyne, Papyrus wasn’t afraid to admit to himself when someone meant something to him.

You looked up at him, lips still swollen from the kisses you’d gifted him, and he felt his sternum burn in a way it never had before. It was like you gave everything around you a new color.

Whatever this light was, he’d make sure he never let it extinguish.

You smiled at him. "Let’s protect it, then. You can’t expect me to let you do it alone."

This was how "alliances" start, or so he thought. He wasn’t afraid of you. This wasn’t your attempt at a power play; he hoped you knew you didn’t need to kill him, he’d _give_ you his soul if you only asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the fluff made up for the TERRIBLE THINGS. 
> 
> Um, I figured out how to incorporate DND and you're going to love it. I have a lot of setup to do in the next chapter, as we follow Sans to see what the hell he does to pay his tab.
> 
> And yes, there will be more (skippable) sex eventually.


	14. Large-Scale Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans pays his tab, Alphys plots a plot, Magic is done, and Muffet exists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, but the fact of the matter is that Saturday, September 2nd, my relationship ended and since then he's been acting MORE?? possessive of me than he used to, to the point where I'm not feeling safe. Right now we're acting as friends with benefits but any time someone shows interest in me, he blows up at me for "trying to make him jealous". He also says he doesn't have any feelings for me-- so I don't know why he has to exercise such control over me. It's frightening and so I'm trying to get out. I have a plan as of this moment: Do commissions to raise money he can't touch, move in with a friend out of state at the end of the month (which has to be top secret, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to pack things before that point or else he'll suspect!), and then later move in with ANOTHER friend, the glorious Small Persian Kitten, sometime in the next 2 months.
> 
> Okay, sorry that's a lot of stuff. But that's why I've been slow on this chapter. I've been incredibly depressed and confused and I'm still having trouble like that. 
> 
> If anyone is interested in my commissions, I'll throw a link to it when I get the posts planned out. I'm trying to find time to draw an example, but it's difficult when my day changes at the drop of a hat. After I move I'll hopefully have MUCH more time to be myself. The commissions are for drawing, writing, voice acting, and perhaps some song covers!

Where Grillby was concerned, information was a commodity he needed in constantly updated stock. That’s where Sans came in.

Sans rarely drew much attention to himself, and if someone took interest, he’d just joke and pun until they left, groaning and rolling their eyes. Sans had long ago found the art of appearing dumb to avoid trouble.

He secretly enjoyed the thrill of danger in his adventures to Capital. However, he didn’t have the luxury to lure assholes into alleys and knife them today. He needed to take as few chances as he could and get home in time to check up on you.

Papyrus was pretty well-versed in dissociation. Sans had-- and sometimes still did have-- episodes where he’d space out. Papyrus and Grillby had been agonizingly patient with him. Even when others just called him lazy.

When it came to dealing with them himself, though… he thought too much. He’d likely just sit there and space out, too. Pass you some chisps and both of you veg out while staring at the weird stain on the ceiling.

Honestly that sounded peaceful and…

He needed to focus.

He needed to get products for the bar, yes, but when it came to information, Sans knew who his greatest bet was.

Years ago when Alphys had become Royal Scientist, she’d found the illegible documents in the basement of the lab. The only readable words were things addressed to "Sans."

She’d scoured the underground before finally finding Sans. She’d demanded information, translations. He’d obliged in the most topical details, but anything deeper rooted made her blackout and wake up with migraines. She remembered vague details, nothing more.

She quit asking about those, instead just thrusting the damned things at him and demanding help on a few projects-- for a lovely compensation for his time, after a lot of skilled haggling on his part.

Working with Alphys had always been a secret, but money aside, his profit had always been the information. Alphys was the seat of Asgore’s intelligence-- a title apparently shared by all Royal Scientists over the years.

Now, standing outside her lab, however, he felt unease. Undyne hadn’t been the only one to change after the Alliance. Sure, Alphys and Sans still worked fine together, though incredibly less often, but there was a deep-seated distrust of him.

The fact of the matter was that he didn’t match up. Undyne had met him as the bumbling oaf, quick with a joke, slow to help. No doubt Undyne’s mistrust had spread to her lover. Sans didn’t fault her-- either of them, for that matter. He might not be strong, but he _was_ dangerous.

Alphys finally opened the door, gave him a once-over. "Meh." She shrugged and let him in. Despite her mistrust, she still showed her back. She knew he wasn’t killing _anyone_ quick with his regular attacks, and if he tried he’d be dead within the week.

"so alph, i’m free for the day, mostly. chess?"

"Only if you’re n-not staying the whole day." She remarked. "I can’t handle you in large d-d.... _doses_."

"fair."

"Sit down so I can slaughter you." She invited, sitting down as well.

He didn’t learn much, honestly. Not until she began asking questions in turn.

"So. Sans. The human."

"what human?"

"The one that _still_ shows up on my readings. Uh… the one you f-fucked in Waterfell."

He froze.

"Yeah, lucky for you I didn’t h-have any cameras in there. But holy shit, Sans."

"what did you see?"

"W-well, it’s more a matter of what I _heard_ but I d-did catch the walk of shame. Wasn’t much shame to it, by those magic readings."

Sans’ hope leapt as he got an idea. He looked at her blankly, letting his tone drip with sarcasm. "you ever heard of a human with readings like that?"

She paused.

He shrugged, as if he’d let something slip that he wanted her to disregard. "i mean, not that it’s impossible. and grillbz has been known to take in strays."

"You’re meaning to imply that they’re a monster in disguise and you have a human fetish _so strong_ that you went to lengths to get porn of humans so you could fuck someone _as_ a human?"

"hey, to be fair _i_ might not be the kinky one." Acting offended seemed to push his story to the next level of believability. If this is what it took, he’d milk his “embarrassment” for all it was worth.

"Sans."

"shut up, you’re one to talk. where’d i get the porn, again?"

"Well." She crossed her arms. "If that’s the c-case..." She made her move and Sans flinched internally. "Why don’t I meet them. Face to fah-fuh- _face_." She watched his expression ruthlessly.

He could still come out on top here. _He could do this!_ "fuckin’ sure. ya gonna bring undyne?"

She cocked her head, obviously unsure. He’d done exactly the opposite of what she’d expected. He made his move. Out of danger, but it was obvious he was prioritizing defense. "I can. That’s a good idea. She’s heard a lot about this hypothetical human, too."

Sans cursed inwardly.

"H-hey, you know what? I found these books at the dump. I’ve been having Mettaton leaf through them for me while I clean him out. He’s been printing off non-waterlogged copies. I’ve been _dying_ to try the game out."

"game?"

"It’s called Dungeons and Dragons. It requires more than three players to be fun, though we had a marvelous test drive. Good way to… relax. And blow off some steam."

She wanted them to get cozy, let their guard down, then. Sans hitched a brow at her. "you’re bringing the bag of bolts, too?" She wouldn’t be dumb enough to--

"Of course not! Who’s gonna defend Hothell if I’m gone?" She paused. "Fuck, who’s gonna defend Waterfell, though?"

 _check._ He cheered himself on.

She snapped her fingers-- how she did, he had no clue. Her fingers didn’t look close like they could reach that way, like little doll hands. If Sans hadn’t seen her wield a welding torch, he’d have figured her hands were just for looks. "Ah! Nevermind, we’ll have Blooky keep an eye on everything. If anything happens, he can come get us!"

_fuck._

"Gah! But what about Umi?!" She covered her mouth from abject horror.

"umi?" He made his move on the board. She might actually beat him at the game but he wasn’t done yet.

"Undyne’s mother, Umiyo! People have been trying to get to her to use as arsenal against Undyne!" She was flailing her hands with every word.

_check?_

"If we leave, they’ll hurt her!" She looked frantic, as if Umiyo were actually _her_ mother.

_check!_

Alphys paused her panic and thought for a moment. She calmly made her move. "Hmm… Sans?"

"yeah?" He felt dread curling in his stomach.

"How about we all meet at Grillby’s? It’s the only place warm enough for me-- and if Umiyo’s coming, she’ll kill us if she doesn’t get to see Ghayth."

Sans started to protest.

"Sans, I’m not stupid. Grillby is definitely Ghayth, okay? Plus, even if I _was_ stupid, Papyrus more or less told us he was ages ago. I mean, the c-connection is there."

Sans facepalmed.

"And chuh- _check_."

 _insult to injury._ "maybe i’ll have better luck at dnd." He commented, trying to keep his cool.

"Don’t feel bad. When I started getting laid, I quit thinking logically, too." She consoled him, acid in her tone. "Just not nearly as much."

"fuck off."

"How about tah-tuh-tuh-tuhhh- _tomorrow_? For DND?"

_tomorrow?!_

"Check-m-mate."

"i hate my life."

"Noted."

"i have things i gotta go do." He remarked, getting up from his seat.

"What hap-happened to having the day mostly empty?" Her tone was snide and victorious.

"grillbz needs supplies." He continued as if she’d said nothing. She knew she was **under his skin** already, so any facade he could attempt would just be useless.

"C-cool. We’ll see you tomorrow. At Grillby’s. Your treat."

"i hate _your_ life."

"N-noted."

 

* * *

 

The supplies were haphazardly strewn in the stockroom, and Grillby was pissed until he saw a note. _undyne, alphys, undyne’s mom. visiting tomorrow. im finding a way to hide slake’s human-ness. put your own damn supplies away. i’ll share the real goods later._

 

* * *

 

You stared at Sans, sitting on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom. He’d pulled you in here for some reason. You had a feeling he felt safer in small areas.

"Okay lemme get this straight." You started.

"k."

"Uh, you..."

"imma stop you right there for a moment. the circumstances of this outcome can be explored later and you can shame me for being an idiot later, too. our main focus needs to be finding a way to make you safe!"

"Calm down there. I’m gonna be okay."

"slake you don’t understand this could lead to an all-out war between tundra and literally _the entire underground_. let’s consider paps and grillbz here ok? no one has to die."

"Holy shit you’re melodramatic."

"i’m _realistic_ , slake!"

You clutched his face and got close. Quietly, but firmly, you spoke, your breathing easy and steady. "Calm down. We’re gonna be fine."

He put his hands over yours on his face. "slake, i’m scared we won’t pull this off."

You kissed him softly. Eagerly, he complied. You pulled back after a moment. His arms went around you and he pulled you off the counter and into a hug. He breathed you in, kissed your neck softly.

This was too intimate for you but he needed to ground himself. If this helped him, you’d survive. "It’s gonna be okay."

He just wanted to wrap you up in a way that no one could see your soul, how bright and beautiful it was as he savoringly tasted your skin. Your hands clutched at his coat and you hummed, trying not to show you liked that. Yes, he wanted to just cover you up with his power so no one could touch you.

“wait.”

“I’m not… doing anything?” You were breathless already. Maybe it was the stress, but you were totally ready to throw down right now.

“no, slake, i think i have an idea.”

“You do?” You asked. “Does it involve clothes?”

He looked at you. “what? no.”

“Good, I’m taking mine off.” True to your words, you began stripping.

“slake i need you to do something.”

“What is it?” You asked, stopping with your pants around your ankles.

“i need you to take this seriously. for just another few minutes. i’m gonna call paps up here, because this is gonna be a lot of effort. but i need you to do a couple things, too. ok?”

You pulled your pants back up but left your shirt off. The binder was still on anyway. “Namely what?”

“i’ll explain in a minute.” Sans said and disappeared. You sat back down on the counter and waited a few minutes, tapping your fingers on the porcelain counter, wondering what the hell he was up to--

Both brothers popped back into the bathroom. Papyrus was standing right in front of you, with your legs on either side of his hips. He was facing away from you, though, speaking loudly in the tiny space. “SANS, I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO THIS, WHY ARE YOU IN SUCH A HURRY?”

“undyne, alphys, and undyne’s mom are coming tomorrow to meet slake and i think i thought of a way to disguise them so they can’t try to take their soul or declare war on tundra.”

Papyrus paused. “THERE WAS A LOT OF CONTENT IN THAT SINGLE STATEMENT THAT BRINGS ME DISCOMFORT.”

“ _exactly_!”

“HOW ARE WE DISGUISING THEM AND WHERE ARE THEY?”

“they’re literally right behind you and we’re gonna cover them in our magic and let them shape it into something.”

“Okay?” You looked at Sans like he’d grown a dick on his forehead. Boner-corn.

“hear me out, both of you. i’m thinking about how if you’re covered in magic, it’s gonna show up as mine, right? unless it’s _both of ours_ in which case, it’ll be muddled and--”

“Okay, but why-- and HOW-- do I shape it into _anything_?”

“alphys has a read on your magic. if something _you_ isn’t mixed into this equation, it’s gonna be really hard to make it believable. as for how? fuck, i’m hoping it’s easy enough that you just focus really hard on what you want it to look like and… i don’t know.” He put his head in his hands.

“Okay, calm down, we can try. But can we maybe try it somewhere less cramped?”

“I WAS PART OF THIS CONVERSATION.” Papyrus interjected, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

You giggled and pulled yourself onto Papyrus’ back. He grappled your thighs, giving you a piggyback ride as he followed Sans out of the bathroom. He had to duck so your head didn’t hit the doorframe.

 

* * *

 

Sans knew there were no cameras in the house, and he reminded himself to make sure Alphys didn’t have any scouts infiltrate the house to put some in while DND went on.

Thus, the three of you claimed the living room and moved anything that could conceivably get in the way out of danger.

You clapped. "How we doin’ this?"

Sans chuckled. If he just kept his mind on you, just let your mood carry him, he’d be fine. He let your easy attitude soothe his anxiety.

"SANS I BELIEVE THAT WAS DIRECTED AT YOU?"

"right." He motioned to you. "stand between us and start focusing on the most badass thing you could possibly be." After a second he added, "something that’s not you at this very second."

You grinned at him. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

 _it was one_. He watched you, tamping down that feeling in his sternum that was too distracting right now.

"NOW WHAT, SANS?"

"ok now this is totally hypothetical. if we put our magic out with the intention to _hide_ them, but let _them_ give it form, i think it’ll work. might work best if we don’t look either."

"And it won’t interfere with the readings you said she got?" You asked.

"as long as you’re shaping it, it should have something of you. as long as you don’t dissolve the disguise in front of her. plus, if it makes you appear more powerful, she won’t think too much into it."

"Wait, what?"

"if you have traces of both of us in addition to your magic, it’s gonna make your readings off the charts, so to speak. if they believe the human on the cameras was you in a disguise, it would explain why your magic levels were lower and more subdued."

"And everything fits there, too?"

"enough that i can explain everything else away. let me handle it."

"UNDYNE WILL PRETEND SHE DOESN’T KNOW YOU’RE HUMAN BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T WANT TO HAVE TO KILL YOU." Papyrus suddenly interjected.

"why?"

"I THINK A LOT OF SLAKE."

Sans thought about it. "you told her slake was human."

"I GAVE NO SUCH AFFIRMATION."

"you didn’t dispute it?"

"IT WOULD NOT HAVE MATTERED, SANS. SHE NEITHER ASKED NOR DEMANDED. IT WAS THE PROVERBIAL ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM. UNDYNE IS ON OUR-- OR AT LEAST MY-- SIDE. ALPHYS IS WHO SLAKE MOST NEEDS TO IMPRESS."

"you’re suggesting we try to ally them. to slake."

"YES."

"that would never work."

"Hey!" You grunted. "Why the hell don’t we try?"

Sans shrugged. "asgore will kill us all, but okay."

"Melodramatic, again?" You prodded, eyebrow hitched.

"LET’S SAVE THE REST OF THIS ARGUMENT FOR LATER. I’D RATHER HAVE IT OVER DINNER."

There was silence. “you’d rather argue over dinner?”

“I DON’T LIKE STANDING ALL DAY.”

“Okay, yeah, I agree with him on that.” You said.

“so we’re doing this?”

You and Papyrus both said yes at the same time. There was aggravation there.

Sans shrugged. “i sure fucking hope this works.”

“Me too, or else we’ll have to come up with another plan.”

“THAT WOULD TAKE TIME AWAY FROM DINNER.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, here.”

“both of you shut up and close your eyes then.”

It was silent. For a moment.

“When do we start?” You asked, and felt both brothers jump. Hell, they’d been at it already, hadn’t they? Oops.

“slake, hush and concentrate on being a monster. we’ll tell you when it’s over.”

“I CAN’T CONCENTRATE.”

“Sweet Jesus this is aggravating.”

"keep trying. really want this to work."

"Me too." You admitted.

"I WANT TO SEE YOU KICK UNDYNE’S ASS WITH MINE AND GRILLBY’S TRAINING."

"that is literally the opposite of what we’re working toward."

"FRIENDLY SPARRING?"

"slake’s survival."

"EMPHASIS ON FRIENDLY?"

"Guys! C’mon!" You sighed. "We can be nervous later!"

The brothers agreed tentatively and silence sunk in again.

You kept your eyes closed and thought. What would you be? What felt right? You remembered Grillby’s thoughts, remembered Pyric and Torby. You smiled. The image didn’t come to you, but you felt it. Almost natural-- but that’s what told you it was going to work.

You didn’t feel much more than swirling currents of hot and cold air, but you bent the energy with your own humming until you felt the air feather across surfaces of your body you’d never felt.

_Wow, that was a relatively immediate result._

You opened your eyes and looked at your hands as the brothers’ magic swirled around your ebony-taloned fingers. Your eyes trailed up your unblemished, russet-scaled arms.

The lines of your scars were absent. You suppressed a squeal of excitement-- the brothers were still hard at work encasing you with magic.

Weight on your back, joints that you’d never moved before creaking-- you shifted your wings and your low hum became a blissful murmur.

The brothers opened their eyes at the noise and saw you--

_holy shit._

_DDDDDDDDDDDOGGAMN._

You didn’t notice. You twisted a bit, checking the exquisite form your legs took, the long, white fetlocks on your foreleg(??) brushing the ground. You should braid them, you thought absently.

Curiously, you looked at your body. You were apparently nude-- but you were entirely androgynous. You thought for a moment about how the guys had used magic to summon genitals. Would that work for you?

Even more intriguing was the knowledge that you didn’t have breasts in this form. You couldn’t _wait_ to train like this! You couldn’t wait to _run_ like this! So many things! SO MANY THINGS!

You flexed your wings and groaned at how weirdly good it felt. The membranes were russet toward the source, but faded into a subdued maroon and then into white. You reached out and touched one carefully, almost afraid it’d hurt or fall apart.

It tickled and you flinched back. You more or less snorted, and realized your face was also shaped differently. You reached up and slapped the sides of your--

 _"I HAVE A SNOOT!"_ You cried out, suddenly overwhelmed. Your fingers brushed across your _many_ fangs and you wondered how it’d feel to chew like this.

Your hands scanned your face, and then rubbed your short white hair and then up when you felt your brow.

Sans and Papyrus watched as your white pupils dilated, swallowing the deep violet that surrounded them, and your mouth fell open in awe. Your fingers carefully traced your horns. Some of them curved, but others were ramrod straight and sharp enough to gore someone. You could barely reach the tips

You stood there for a long time, feeling each of them in turn. Some smaller ones made studded rows down your scalp, and the feeling of them under your fingers made your scales prickle. Was that the equivalent of arm hair standing up?

Everything was so new. You couldn’t speak, and when you looked to either side of you, saw your lovers just as enraptured as you, you blushed to your roots.

 _oh my god._ Sans met your eyes and willed himself with _everything he had_ not to get a **boner**. You were taller, he realized. You were _bigger_ than him and he had no idea that would turn him on like it did.

You were about Papyrus’ height, you realized, glancing at him. Papyrus’ spine was straight and he was blushing even deeper than you. So softly that you didn’t pick it up, he whispered. "Beautiful."

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. "So um. Guys. It worked."

The brothers exchanged glances.

"Aaaaaand I’m naked." You said.

 _fuck if that wasn’t noticable._ Your scales faded into a soft grey toward your chest. Sans wondered how warm you’d be to the touch. You were so _majestic_ , like a terrifying creature of a nature he’d never known.

To look at you, you were a cloudless night. You were the taste of air after a rain. The warmth of the earth on a quiet summer night. And neither monster knew that feeling as anything other than You.

"Guys, please quit staring I don’t know how to not be naked."

Papyrus cleared his throat. "PERHAPS. WE SHOULD ASK GRILLBY. WHAT DRAGONS CAN WEAR. WITH." He eyed your wings with unhidden fascination. "WINGS. AND TAILS."

"Oh shit I HAVE A WHAT?!" You spun around excitedly only to have it sweep Papyrus’ feet. The poor lanky skeleton tripped but wouldn’t have fallen if your flexed wing hadn't hit him in the face right when he was fighting for balance.

His body eagerly greeted the floor while you still tried to catch your tail. Sans, too, had fallen-- laughing himself into an absolute stupor.

You finally caught it, stroking the fur at its tip. "IT IS SO FUCKING CUTE LOOK AT IT!"

"I AM SO GLAD THIS WORKED." Papyrus muttered from the ground. "I WOULD HATE TO KNOW HOW ANY OTHER POTENTIAL PLAN WOULD HAVE INJURED ME."

You laughed and helped him up. There were stars in his sockets when he looked at you.

Shit, that made you nervous. How to diffuse the situation?

"Onwards! To Grillby's!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so, due to popular demand, I'm planning a DND EPISODE!!!!!!!!
> 
> Our roster is as follows:  
> Slake (You!)  
> Sans  
> Papyrus  
> Grillby  
> Umiyo (Undyne's Mother, originally from Soul-Searcher)  
> Undyne  
> Alphys (Who will most likely be the DM)  
> and Muffet! (who was actually not even supposed to be in this at first but I fucking love writing Drunk Muffet, so I HAVE TO IM SORRY!-- also to anyone who wants some Drunk Muffet, read "Blue's Baby Bones"


	15. Firedad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: mentions of cannibalism, casual murder (it’s fucking Underfell, what do you want from me), and sexual burger-eating. I don’t know how I managed that one. Alcohol use and some healthy embarassment. Found family, more mentions of Torby and Pyric... Okay I'm done.
> 
> Muffet has such a damn crush on you. Let's get you into some clothes and maybe dry-heave from laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are worried........
> 
> Things got more complicated, and I moved from kentucky to michigan.... for a week. I'm going back home tomorrow because I can't let go. I can't not see where this path he leads me down will go. I love him, as scary as that is. Maybe one day he'll feel the same. Maybe one day I'll look back at these notes and laugh or cry. But that day is not this one. I am firm, resolute. Determined. I will see this through because if there's one thing I don't do half-assed, it's love, apparently.
> 
> And, by the way, I love you guys too. I've been holding onto this chapter for so long... I missed you guys! So here, it's a little longer, but it's also dialogue-heavy.

"ok, grillbz. need ya to come with me. cuz everything’s ok. but you’re gonna fuckin burn the house down if you see them like this."

Grillby followed Sans outside the bar. He was very obviously still upset about how Sans left his storage room. Or, perhaps, he was also stressing over tomorrow’s company. "You have five minutes."

He ushered Grillby outside of the bar. "k. slake! c’mout."

You emerged from cover and stared at Grillby. He was still looking around for you. You came closer and then you felt his gaze. The sound of a roaring flame was all the warning you got before he ran full-tilt and tackled you in a hug.

You couldn’t understand what he was saying. Was he speaking in tongues? No, you realized after awhile it was some language he might be the only one who remembered.

It certainly explained his slight accent, you supposed. But what the figurative fuck was he saying?

"Hey, Fireball? Kinda crushing me. And burning, but it doesn’t seem to be too bad. Um. Could you speak my language so I know what the fuck you’re saying? Getting deja vu here."

He ignored you and nuzzled you. Speech finally subsided and you were left there with a strong and hardy veteran clinging to you like a fucking liferaft.

Sans and Papyrus helped pry him off you, and he apologized after a long moment. "You three don’t understand. We’ve had naturally-occurring dragons since getting down here… but they didn’t have wings. Weren’t this strong."

You shrugged. "Is it convincing enough?"

He paused. "Had I not known you before, I would have never guessed. You feel like Torby and Pyric. I’m very proud."

"Can we train?"

"slake are you sure--"

"I WANNA TRAIN LOOK AT HOW COOL THIS SHIT IS!"

Grillby laughed. He wiped his face under his overly-reflective glasses. "Yes. Let’s train. It would do you well to learn to move and fight in this form. If Undyne is anything like her mother, she’ll want to fight you to assess your strength."

"FRIENDLY SPARRING!" Papyrus said happily. "SHE AND I DO THAT TOO."

"so we have a day to get them used to being themself, ok? more appropriately… half a day."

"Am I going to fit on the couch?" You asked. "Can I have clothes?"

"Let me get in touch with an old friend. You may stay the night with me tonight. If you recall, I have a spare room that sees hardly any use."

The brothers exchanged glances. They went to protest, but Grillby cut them off with a motion that brooked no argument.

"You wouldn’t want them exhausted from sleeping on a sofa that’s too small for them, would you? Also, I alone have information pertaining to ancient dragons and their tricks. They can survive a night without either of you."

"Guys, it’ll be okay, it’s just for tonight." You added. "I mean, unless I just stay this way. Fuck, but I wouldn’t mind."

"Our first order of operation should be training you, seeing how much stronger you are. But… first, clothes. So the boys can’t continue to ogle you like that."

Sans and Papyrus looked away, but their blushing faces still showed. You snickered.

 

* * *

 

The old friend that Grillby spoke of once before seldom visited Tundra. It was a harsh climate for those of her kind.

It took him taking a picture of seven full bottles of Jack Daniels to convince her to come over-- and the promise of warm food she didn’t have to cook, clean up after, or pay for if she brought her tools of the trade.

He rushed to tell you to hide in the bedroom. This friend had also known dragons on the surface, though she’d been a small child at the time.

From where you sat, you could hear the muffled conversation. Her voice was sweet-- falsely so, at first. "What am I making for you today?"

"Muffet, this isn’t a formal visit. You wound me." The joke in his tone made them both laugh.

Her professional tone sufficiently dropped, her voice was lower, more natural. She sounded beautiful and much more mature than before. "Okay, you flaming bastard. Is it the boys? Or did you just need a talking buddy?"

"I have a surprise for you. And a challenge, if you’re up for it."

"Aww, Uncle." There was a pause. "Well?"

"SLAKE!"

You jumped and rushed out the door, hitting your wing against the doorframe and cringing.

"OH MY GOD UNCLE GHAYTH THIS IS BETTER THAN THE PONY I ASKED FOR."

You snorted.

"Slake, is it?" She giggled in return, rushing up to you and taking your hands in all of hers. "He said he’d taken in another stray but he failed to mention..." She looked up at you, open admiration in her many eyes. "How frickin _big_ you are!"

Oh, God, that smile. "He didn’t tell me how adorable you are, so we’re even." You rebutted, caught up in how excited and sweet she was.

"Muffet, Slake." Grillby motioned between the two of you. "Now, Muffet. I need to confide in you."

"Yeah, no, let me guess." She pointed at you. "Ashy, right? Human-- at least partly."

He was expressionless.

Muffet turned back to you. "Ashella watched me once or twice for Mom, back then. She was really sweet and taught me a few tricks to not being seen. Still remember her fondly-- you smell _just like her_ ohmygod."

You grinned at her. "We’re trying to avoid me being killed by the Guard. I’m gonna try to not be noticed, but I need to get used to my body so I can seem normal enough tomorrow when Alphys, Undyne, and one of them’s mom come visit."

"Umiyo." Grillby supplied.

"Ah, _her_. Yeah, she might be a tough cookie."

"We’re really worried about Alphys though. Paps seems to think Undyne will turn a blind eye for his sake."

Muffet nodded. "Well, I mean. If you need blackmail, I--"

"Muffet." Grillby interrupted sternly.

"Oh? Well, I have it if you need it. Just saying, she’s not nearly as good a spymaster as me. She’d never detect my spiders. I’ve eaten about four or five of her scouts, and crushed most of her cameras. I let her think I don’t know about the others. Control her information."

 _Good to know._ You thought. "What we _need_ though. For now, anyway… We need clothes for me, and if you want to stay for the game tomorrow, I’d appreciate another friend at my back."

She placed a hand over her chest, as if touched. "Aw that’s so precious. Uncle, I’m taking them home with me."

"I’m afraid not. The boys have _both_ taken a shining to them." He pointed to you, and you were confused until Muffet looked at your neck and hissed.

"Holy crap~, I’d say so."

You blushed to your roots.

"Don’t be shy, dearie." She said, patting your arm and then blinking at it. "Wow~ you’re..."

You had muscles, you realized. Your training showed so much better without scar tissue hiding it.

She cleared her throat. "Let me just… get to work designing you some clothes. In the meantime? Uncle?"

"Yes, I think I have something that’ll work for today." He motioned for you to follow him as Muffet sat down at a booth, producing a drawing pad and eagerly sketching on three torn pages at once.

Grillby reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out another of his shirts, this one visibly larger than the other he’d given you before. "Don’t ask whose this was. It might be a little large, but we need to cut the back a bit to accommodate your wings."

"But--"

"Pyric had a trick where he could make his wings into coiled magic, and when he’d let them out, they’d be fully restored. Torby never bothered because his acid would eat through them eventually."

You thought about it. "I don’t have much control over my magic."

"The shirt should be baggy enough, then. Fold them close to your back, yes?" He waited until you complied before motioning for you to bend your neck so he could easily reach your head. He threaded the shirt over your horns carefully, and you stuck your arms through.

He tugged it down. Your wings stuck out a large amount from the bottom, and you discovered an itch on the inside of your left one. You shook it a bit, hoping desperately that it’d stop. He admonished you softly before walking off. You went to follow him but he was already returning with a pair of shears.

Nervously, you tried to stay as still as possible as he trimmed the back of the shirt. At one point, you yelped when the chilly metal blades brushed against your wing membrane.

"You’re okay to move your wings. Carefully. I’ll help guide them out. One at a time, in case I have to cut more."

After your wings were out, he started searching in the drawer again. "I swore I had some of his pants, too."

When all was said and done, you ended up braiding your fetlocks while Grillby cut a hole in the ass of the pants to accommodate your tail.

"I swear, if you’d taken after Torby, tail-wise, you’d be stuck with a kilt."

You remembered from your dreams that Torby had had a tail thicker than his waist, covered in spines. "Did it ever get in his way?" You wondered.

"He was certainly more balanced than anyone else. Very solid, but not fast. More often than not, it got in Pyric’s way. Torby made it a game, hip-checking him. Since Torby was so much larger, Pyric would go sprawling."

You giggled and let Grillby lead you back to the bar. At your re-entry, Muffet hopped up with one of the papers in one hand. She unrolled a measuring tape in another, letting it slap the ground.

"'Mere!" She said, but didn’t wait, instead stalking toward you. She eyed Grillby. "Not gonna ask why you had his clothes."

"Nothing of that sort. He’s straight."

She sputtered. "WELL DUH!"

You couldn’t take it. "Who?!"

Muffet giggled. "The king. I can tell by the trim at the hem that it’s one of Toriel’s personal guards-- and she only had two!" She wrinkled her face in a grimace. "Though from size and smell, I would have guessed even so."

"Got a keen nose, don’t you?" You grinned as she went about measuring your chest, your waist, and so on.

"I can smell if my cake is done baking from a very nice distance. Also I can smell if someone is sweating in the shadows, and if it’s _fear_ -sweat. Can also guess, based on that, if they’d taste good in a pie or something. I get creative."

_I love her._

She giggled and blushed. You realized you’d remarked your thoughts aloud.

"Uncle, you’re incredibly lucky I brought enough fabric for this. I just wish I’d known what _colors_ to bring, but..."

"What colors do you have?" You asked.

She thought for a moment. "I mean, I could just… call Sans for help on this, right?"

Speaking of the devil himself, the door cracked open. "uh, grillbz, is it still okay to eat here or are you that intent on us leaving them alone for now?"

Papyrus appeared behind him. "I WILL EAT HERE AS WELL. FOR REASONS."

"bro, you have no subtlety."

"SUBTLETY IS NOT AS IMPORTANT AS GETTING YOUR POINT ACROSS!"

Sans face-palmed.

Muffet went to the door, met Sans’ eyes and waited. You saw the look of fear well up in him and you wondered why. "Both of you are so rude, even now."

Sans was visibly trying to back out of the door, but Papyrus was in the way.

“BROTHER STAND YOUR GROUND. SPRINKLE ISN’T EVEN HERE."

"Sprinkle?" You asked.

Muffet regarded you warmly. "My pet."

Grillby snapped his fingers. It sounded like flint striking. "Should have brought him. He loves my burgers."

"Not nearly as much as he loves _crunching bones_."

You even shivered at that. "Is it so bad, them being here?"

"Of course not." She said. "But the boys can come in on _one condition only._ "

They edged closer into the doorway to hear her better.

"I need a quick trip to my lair and a strong man to carry some bolts of fabric. Now."

"I CAN CARRY THINGS!" Papyrus shoved Sans inside, and he face-planted on the ground. You were worried that he would be hurt, but all three of them disappeared so you could only assume he was ok enough to teleport three entire people.

You and Grillby exchanged glances. You cracked up and he just shook his head. He went behind the counter. "I’m to prepare lunch. Anything you’d like?"

"Show me the magical burger powers, Firedude."

"I have been demoted from Fire _ball_ to Fire _dude_." He remarked, his wry amusement making you flounder.

"Shit, is that disrespectful? I’m sorry."

His shrug was somehow graceful. "A name is just a name. I’ve had many."

"Does it actually bother you, though?"

"It… surprisingly, I find it incredibly endearing." You followed him into the kitchen and leaned against the wall, crossing your arms.

"Surprisingly?" You prompted.

He nodded. "There are very few monsters I’ve ever been so fond of-- and no humans that I can recall. Muffet was under my care as a request of her uncle before he fell down… but it took me ages to develop such a… soft, sentimental attachment to her."

He paused, intently staring at the burgers before realizing he’d been hovering and went to set up the fryers.

"It was out of obligation, protecting her. Eventually, that changed-- that is why she is _allowed_ to call me Uncle. However…" He threw mozzarella sticks into the vat and you perked up-- you’d mentioned you missed them last time you’d eaten here.

He chuckled. "I don’t care for anyone _naturally_. Even with the boys-- it felt like an obligation for the longest time. I hadn’t seen a skeleton since the War. Zorion… Adilet… I couldn’t fathom a surviving skeleton…"

So that’s why...?

He returned to the grill. "Ah, don’t misunderstand. It’s not like that anymore. I… I believe I _needed_ to raise them. It gave me some sort of outlet. Papyrus _needed_ me. So did Sans. And I’m proud of how they’ve grown."

You grinned but wondered if he’d ever told them as much.

He stepped over to make a milkshake. You guessed it was for Papyrus. Sans had said something about it once. "However, as soon as I laid eyes on you, assessed you…"

_That’s right. His first response was "I’m adopting you."_

"And even though Torby named me as Godfather of any descendants he’d have one day, it didn’t feel like an obligation." He returned to the fryers, reaching in with his bare hands and pulling the mozzarella sticks out, as if it were the most normal process in the world. You choked on your breath quietly from the shock.

"I don’t understand it, but I’m so invested in your growth. I have never in my life-- centuries!-- _never_ have I ever felt so determined to see someone succeed."

_Shit, don’t cry._

"And… quite honestly, I feel that no matter what path lies ahead of you, you’ll find a way to make me very proud."

He plated the last item and turned to you. "Oh, fucking whistle-nipples, why are you crying?"

_Whistle nipples?!_

"Why are you snorting whilst crying?!" He set the food down on a counter and approached you. "Child, you’re _frightening me._ "

You doubled over laughing, wiping at your face as you fought for breath. "That was the most touching thing anyone ever said to me. And then you said _whistle nipples_ and fucking..." you fell into hysterics again. "OH GOD IT HURTS!" You were laughing so hard now.

Well, now that you were on the floor, you admired that it was clean. No dust bunnies under the stove, either.

You opened your mouth to speak but the words flashed through your mind again and the laugh turned your attempt at speech into a violent dry heave as your stomach contorted with silent, breathless laughter.

Grillby helped you up. You finally composed himself. He looked you dead in the eyes, as serious as you’d ever seen him. "Whistle-nipples."

You shoved him, still giggling. He beamed at you, chuckling as well.

The din of commotion reached you both, so you helped him carry plates out and set them down at the bar. The boys finally got a good look at you-- their eyes never left and they had really odd expressions.

"Am I that hot?" You wondered aloud.

"Yes." Muffet answered blithely without looking up, sorting through the bolts of fabric. "And if you’re _always_ this sweet and humble..." She shrugged and grinned.

You sat down to eat your burger and noted that Grillby had gone out of his way to seat you at the end of the bar with Muffet’s plate next to you. The boys were further down, and they eyed their plates with thinly-veiled disappointment.

"Eat up." Grillby said firmly. "You’re old enough, the both of you, to know your current behavior is neither mature nor attractive."

"Holy shit, Fireball, that’s harsh." You protested on their behalf.

Sans sighed. "i mean, he’s not wrong."

Papyrus nodded after a moment. "ADDRESSING THE PROBLEM AS SUCH IS THE QUICKEST WAY TO SEE IT SOLVED."

You stared at your burger. How did you eat with this mouth? You looked up at Grillby and silently pleaded for guidance.

Muffet sat next to you and immediately and unapologetically dug into her burger with a voracity you wouldn’t have guessed she could have.

You started eating, too, so she wouldn’t be alone. Your depth perception was a bit off at first, considering your snoot, so you started with your cheese sticks, admiring how, despite how they were obviously fresh from the fryer, they didn’t burn your mouth as you smashed them with your powerful-- if awkward-- jaws.

Holy shit, though. You realized you could eat the burger in one bite. Honestly, that would be the easiest way to do it, because _how does one take a civilized bite of something with this kind of face?_

Hesitantly, you placed the entire burger in your mouth as Grillby tried hard not to crack up. You bit down and began to chew, and immediately realized that this was a messy mistake. Unless you swallowed it mostly whole, you were going to lose some of it from the sides of your mouth.

Sans was snickering, and you shot him a dirty look. Papyrus was too busy sucking down what looked like a strawberry milkshake like it was a life tonic.

You devoted yourself to _tasting_ the burger-- and so you continued to chew. You tried to use your tongue to maneuver the food away from escaping-- and realized just how long it was when you lapped sauce from your jowl.

You glanced askance to see if anyone else noticed and saw Sans with gaping, empty pits for eyes, face dusted intensely with--

_Holy shit he’s BLUSHING?_

You felt your face heat and you returned your attention to food.

Muffet had already polished hers off and giggled behind three hands. You glanced out of your periphery to see Sans had thrown up his hood and cinched it to close around his face until all you could see was his troubled mouth and a bit of blush.

You reminded yourself not to use this power for evil.

You looked to Papyrus and saw a completely different reaction. His innocent expression from before had bled into piercing hunger you felt in your bones. The intensity you remembered in him shook you to the core and you quickly looked away.

Grillby loudly cleared his throat next to Papyrus, and he looked. He and Grillby maintained silent eye contact for a long, merciless moment.

Quietly, Papyrus spoke to the bartender. "I don’t recall you being quite this protective of anyone else."

Grillby leaned in, his voice darker. "I take my role as a father seriously."

"Obviously. But what have _I_ done?”

“Have you checked their neck lately?”

Papyrus cringed so hard that you snickered a bit.

“what about me?” Sans asked quietly.

“You came here for your date. I saw and heard everything before you left.”

Sans somehow got paler than you though bone could get.

Muffet sipped straight from a bottle of Jack Daniels. “Mmm, dinner and a show.”

You eyed Grillby. “Um, what about me? Do I get in trouble for _agreeing_ to these things?”

“Why do you think you’re staying here tonight? You’re grounded.”

If it weren’t for the obvious joke in his tone, you’d be offended. The boys didn’t seem to hear it the same way as you, so when you started laughing, they flinched from the shock.

Grillby chuckled back. Even Muffet looked surprised, but she just took another sip.

The silence stretched after that, with you polishing off the rest of your food and the brothers looking very pensive, speaking to each other in glances.

The boys went home-- Grillby was adamant about that-- but you stayed so Muffet could outfit you with three new sets of clothes. She also asked you what your stance on piercings was. You glanced at Grillby, somewhat frightened of the question, but he was quick to calm you.

“Torbernite and Pyric both had horn piercings. They don’t hurt, that I’m aware, but I’ll admit they were quite beautifully imposing.”

“I don’t care if it hurts, I just had no idea why this was a thing?”

Muffet patted your shoulder. “Calm down, dearie. You decide what you want. But I think I have some chains and rings should you want to…” she reached up and touched two of your tallest horns, “connect these…”

Grillby laughed and you realized Muffet was blushing slightly. She stepped back. “Yknow, Uncle, Pyric was my first crush.”

His laughter redoubled. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“He wasn’t _that_ much of an asshole, Uncle.”

“It would have been like me dating Toriel-- aside from the fact I’m not interested in women.”

“We’re boss monsters, Uncle. Age isn’t a thing!”

“It certainly was!” He argued. You stood between them, absolutely petrified to remind them you were indeed still here. “Your MOTHER was in his squadron!”

“If I get the piercing, can we…?”

Grillby startled. “Celestial fuck-clamp, yes, I’m sorry.”

You bit back your laughter.

Muffet shook her head. “Uncle, you do the honors. I’m too short to reach and um. Yeah. Ahuhuhuhu I need another drink.”

You ended up getting a couple of them done. And after consulting a mirror, which you were unsure where Muffet had procured it from, you decided that, yes, you certainly _did_ look more imposing now.

Grillby got your attention. "Don't let the boys tug on them. I'd hate for one of your horns to break."

Noted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm in the process of drawing Slake's dragon form. However, I have a friend who I'm planning to art-trade with to draw them-- because he's the one who helped me bring Pyric and Torby to life! I'm still so proud of how they turned out, so I made our custody of the dragon brothers joint. They visit him in Canada and bring me those kinder eggs or whatever they are that we can't have down here. 
> 
> Okay, but real talk. Go show him some love, he wrote some amazing stuff for undertale and has been doing art for the sake of my shitposting since Soul-Searcher! He also is huge into Dragon Age and World of Warcraft if you're interested in those. He is quite seriously one of my dearest friends, and having him there for me has saved my life on more than one occasion. 
> 
> butnobodycame on AO3  
> summerbxy.tumblr.com


	16. Umiyo-- An Alphyne Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why the hell was Alphys so worked up over her mother-in-law?
> 
> Let's go back in time and do some snooping.
> 
>  
> 
> LET'S DOOOO THE TIIIIIME WAAARP AGAAAAAAAAAAAIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I'm back from hiatus, started a new job
> 
> and this is the precursor to the DND chapter, which im beginning now.
> 
> I just finished my main fic, Soul-Searcher, which this is an AU of, so if you're bored, feel free to delve into it. Just remember to pace yourself. The chapters are huge with the exception of 2 joke chapters; they exceed ten pages at least-- and the longest chapter i posted for it was 30 pages. there are 42 chapters, and an accompanying fic that provides bonus content. 
> 
> Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled ficcing.

Alphys had never been the family type. Her cold-naturedness, as Sans would put it, influenced her every reaction to those around her. Part of her resented that cold, clinical tendency to disregard innocent life. It was the part of her that saw orphans on the street and felt sympathy-- or worse: empathy. Though, gods, she’d never tell!

Mettaton had been her first confidant, much like Papyrus was to Undyne. Alphys had made observations about herself, distantly, and Mettaton had implied that perhaps she should try to help.

“What use would that serve?” She asked. As much as part of her wanted to help those children, how the hell could she?

“If we get my darling cousin in on this, we could have them be your eyes and ears. No one observes the antics of children.”

“Except those who’d harm children for a little extra EXP.” Alphys argued.

“So you make them a few gadgets, even if it’s… hell, Alphys, I don’t know! Microchips inserted into their skin that react to hostile magic?”

“That’s… actually a good idea. I’m going to write that down.”

“Don’t bother, it’ll just get lost. I saved it to my backup. You’re welcome.”

Mettaton and Alphys created the Orphan Unit, and Mettaton had his cousin train the children on stealth. It gave Napstablook a purpose, got them closer to Mettaton, and as payment, Alphys made them an amazing setup to make music.

After the Alliance was formed, Alphys lost touch with her priorities for a while. Mettaton ended up taking over a lot of loose ends, transferring his one capable employee to work with Napstablook and the children. Burgerpants and Blooky got along famously after a rocky start. Even more importantly, the children loved Burgerpants-- though the cat had no idea why.

When Alphys finally returned full-force to her work, she no longer felt like the awkward aunt forced to play babysitter. She never even had to interact with the children unless it was to give them assignments-- which she’d almost entirely turned over to Mettaton.

She was glad everyone knew there was coding in Mettaton’s body that, were he ever to raise his magic against her, his body would short circuit and trap him inside forever unless she helped him. If she hadn’t had that foresight, she’d be frightened of how capable he turned out to be.

Alphys’ problems morphed into more… domestic ones. She focused on how to make Undyne unstoppable. She kept herself up late at night designing all sorts of things for the Coliseum, for Undyne’s house, for her own (to better accommodate Undyne), as well as setting up even better security throughout Waterfell.

One thing struck Alphys very oddly, however. Undyne had been very close to her mother, named Umiyo, for the duration of her youth. Undyne bragged about her mother on occasion, usually when drunk as hell. Of late, those boasting sessions had turned into quiet, withdrawn ramblings.

“It kinda just _hic_ tears me apart, yknow, Alphy? She was always there for me, even when I woke up crying because the dust was under my scales and I couldn’t get it out. She would tell me about how things were back when she was my age. She’d tell me what she remembered of the surface. She’d tell me about the people she knew, fought beside, trained under.”

Undyne would end up crying. “And I can’t be bothered to call her and say, Hey Mom GUESS WHAT I’ve bonded to someone and I’m happy and okay and…” She’d just sit there for a moment before managing to speak through her cracked voice. “Are you proud?”

Alphys would never truly understand that. Her paranoia stemmed from issues she’d had with her own wildly abusive parents. The idea of wanting approval, of wanting support… it felt frightening. How terrible to place your own self-worth in the hands of someone who would forever hold the burden of your existence over your head. At least-- that was Alphys’ experience.

Undyne was afraid to visit Umiyo for more than just that. Umiyo lived in the Capital, where Undyne couldn’t protect her. If Undyne drew any attention to her mother by visiting or even keeping in regular contact with her, Umiyo would become a target. The new Resistance made it clear that they were willing to target whatever it would take to make changes. This included dusting a couple of Alphys’ Orphans.

Alphys, however, wasn’t someone who gave up easily. When the treaty between Hothell and Waterfell had first been discussed, Undyne had sought Umiyo’s council, and that had led to Alphys actually meeting the woman. That had been well before the relationship had formed.

Umiyo had made it clear she neither trusted nor respected Alphys. To put it in Umiyo’s precise words: “She’s too brainy. Would never be able to do more than hold you down, Dynny. I’ll tolerate it as a way to keep your territory steady. But only _tolerate_.”

It was a meeting that had opened Undyne’s eyes to a lot of things. Her adored mother had finally voiced an opinion she herself didn’t share. The fact that Alphys didn’t cower, didn’t back down in the face of Umiyo’s blatant disrespect-- it made Undyne aware that her feelings for Alphys had long stretched beyond platonic. As much as she hated to admit it, Papyrus had been right all along.

In any case, Alphys tried not to let it bother her, but the drinking episodes became more frequent. Undyne was terrified that Umiyo was going to end up being attacked. How could she keep her safe? And with the news of their bond becoming commonly known, how would Umiyo react?

Whereas Undyne visiting the Capital would create an opening for attack in Waterfell as well as draw attention to her mother, Alphys had no such problems. Mettaton could easily hold the fort down, so to speak, and she had countless variations on cloaking devices that could keep the heat off of her until she was safely in Umiyo’s house-- providing she could get _into_ her house.

As to that… Well, she wasn’t _that_ brave. She started by sending one of her few remaining Orphans, a child with no arms and no name. The child was discovered by Umiyo within a week, and Alphys watched on the edge of her seat as Umiyo went to attack--

She hesitated. The child stood fearlessly before her, unable to attack, chip sufficiently diffused due to Umiyo’s unique magic-- but still unwilling to stand aside.

Alphys was worried when the child was taken into Umiyo’s house, but she became even more so when they never came out.

Mettaton stood next to Alphys as she stared relentlessly at the monitor. Suddenly, for the first time in well over a day, she spoke. “Fuck it.”

She’d face Umiyo herself.

 

* * *

 

Umiyo answered the door to find Alphys peering through her cloaking device. Umiyo couldn’t see for hell anyway, but she could sense Alphys through some other means. Likely the same way she noticed the child so quickly.

Alphys didn’t even have to ask about the child. Umiyo grabbed Alphys’ arm and tugged her inside, shutting the door behind her quietly enough to not disturb a child asleep on the couch, covered in an old quilt that was more remedial patchwork than anything. Alphys saw with relief that not only was the child healthy and safe-- but obviously well-fed.

“You sent me Starry so I’d be less lonely.” Umiyo assumed.

Alphys explained that she had intended to make sure Umiyo was safe so she could find a way to get Undyne over there more. Umiyo nodded, thinking it over. Alphys continued to speak, saying that she knew Umiyo didn’t like her, but that it didn’t mean Alphys wasn’t willing to help.

Umiyo continued to think, looking consternated. She finally spoke again. "Nothing wrong with being smart. My daughter loves you, obviously. There’s no reason I can’t respect you for that, at least."

Alphys smiled, stars in her eyes. Umiyo pointed at her. "Get me a pair of those glasses and I’ll consider _liking_ you. I can’t see shit, and Starry likes to draw things for me."

 

It started slow. Umiyo and Starry would visit the lab, making good use of those cloaking devices. Umiyo also had taught Starry a great deal of fighting arts that no one else was adept at. Being as how Umiyo had lost one of her arms as a child in a skirmish with humans during the war, Alphys humored that perhaps Starry had ended up in the absolute best place ever for them.

She kind of envied the child.

Umiyo didn’t have very many good days. Her boss monster status had kept her alive for a long, long time, but she had a child. The aging process had taken its toll, and now she was raising another. Her soul struggled under the strain of it sometimes, and so Alphys kept working on ways to make her comfortable. At some point it became for herself rather than for Undyne.

She gave Umiyo and Starry a hands-free communications device, so that way if they ever needed help or perhaps just wanted to chat, they could. Since the trek from Capital to Hothell wasn’t always manageable. Especially considering that Hothell’s heat was so difficult for Umiyo to handle, especially at her age.

Umiyo had called one night to find Alphys still awake, laboring over a code that wouldn’t work no matter what she did. Umiyo had had another dream about the war, and so was desperate for some sort of distraction, but like hell was she gonna wake Starry up at this ungodly hour.

“So you’ll wuh-wake me up, then?”

“You haven’t considered sleep in the past week, Alph.”

“T-touche.”

“So whatcha working on, kiddo?”

Alphys secretly glowed from that name. It was a recent development but Alphys was unsure she’d ever get used to it. “I’m just t…” She knew she was beginning to stammer and shut down, tempted to bite her tongue in an effort to make it obey her.

“Take your time. Ain’t gotta impress me.”

She could fucking cry from how supportive Umiyo was of her speech impediment. “I’m just _trying_ to umm… code this new thing.”

“Tell me about the thing. What does this thing do? What’s it’s name?”

“I mean… do you care about it?”

“I don’t know a godsdamned thing, kiddo. Even if I don’t understand it, I wanna hear about it. Not like I’m gonna understand it any more or less either way-- but! You’re having trouble with it, right?”

“Y-yeah…”

“And if you talk it over from square one with me… ya think you could stumble across the answer?”

Alphys actually _might_ have started crying. Not even Mettaton was like this. Legitimate envy for Undyne and Starry crept into her again and she squashed it. She had Umiyo now, didn’t she? In some capacity, anyway. That’s what mattered. She’d cherish her.

That’s how Umiyo became Alphys’ personal wall. She’d talk and bounce ideas off, and while Umiyo rarely retained much of the jargon or technical knowledge, she never seemed to get bored. She always stayed positive when Alphys began to get pessimistic. She always had some strain of wisdom to throw at a situation.

Alphys began to understand why it would mean so much to Undyne that Umiyo be proud of her.

 

Undyne knew that Umiyo had adopted Starry, knew that Alphys kept tabs on them both-- but she didn’t know to what extent until one day she found Alphys absolutely bawling onto her keyboard. Umiyo’s frantic voice on the other side of the comm alerted Undyne to what could have happened.

She grabbed the comm and yelled into it. “MOM, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?” She started to yell other garbled, hateful things-- but Alphys silenced her by tugging her toward her.

“I didn’t say anything bad! I don’t _think_ I did. I’m just as concerned as you! Alph, did you stub your toe again? Did you step on a screw? Did I do something wrong? Are--”

“I’m fine!” Alphys wailed, her voice about 74% liquid. She whispered. “I’m just… happy.”

Undyne looked at the comm for answers.

Umiyo spoke again. “All I said was I’m proud of all three of my kids?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, i wanted to post some fluff. the next chapter is dnd. get ready, because Umiyo's salty ass is coming along too.


	17. Captain Obsidiamber and the Gang of Unruly Fuckheads.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DND part 1
> 
> Trigger warnings: Sexual references, and lots of it. also mentions of muffet killing children.
> 
> and lots. lots of sexual references. i'm sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, sorry this is dragging on long enough so take 15 pages of hell. 
> 
> IT ONLY GETS WORSE FROM HERE, SO GET READY.

You didn't feel tired. The constant surge of magic gave you the jitters if you stayed stationary for too long.

This is why you and Grillby were duking it out behind the shop. This crash course in moving in your body shouldn’t have been this easy, you marveled.

It was like this was what you were always meant to be.

 

* * *

 

"My Ghayth-senses are going haywire." Umiyo complained as she and Alphys, cloaked, got off the Riverperson’s boat. Behind them, Undyne had a rather large box on her shoulder, hiking ahead of them quickly.

"Umi, you’ve been saying that since w-we tol-told you that he’d be h-here."

"Are you nervous or cold?" She asked, concerned.

"Yesssssss." She shivered in an attempt to retain warmth.

"Anyway, no, it’s different now. I can feel his battle magic."

"His…? Oh." Wait, that meant--

"He’s training." Umiyo stated without doubt. "More accurately, he’s training some _one_. He’s going way too easy on them, whoever it is. So it’s clear it’s not an intruder or he’d have dusted ‘em and not played around like he is.”

Alphys relaxed a bit. She’d been concerned that they were going to walk into the blast radius of a fight. "You muh-must have b-b-been close to him if you can sense him from here."

"You forget I’m mostly blind by now, and as close to decrepit as an old bitch can be. My remaining senses work double-time with no pay."

Alphys grinned even though Umiyo had just addressed the elephant in the room that Alphys was forcibly oblivious to.

The bar loomed ahead, and now Alphys’ senses prickled. "Muffet." She grumbled. "Wuh-what’s _she_ doing here?"

"It’s a party." Umiyo remarked dryly. "Hope there’s fucking cake."

Undyne reached for the doorknob with her free hand but the door opened before she could. Muffet stood there, smiling sweetly, the perfect image of diplomacy. It didn’t fool anyone.

The suspicions of Muffet feeding the rebellion behind closed doors was heavy on Undyne and Alphys on any normal day. Having her here made this feel like an ambush.

"Come in, dearies. Before you all catch cold. Or before I do." That last reminder sounded more like a threat. The trio obeyed eagerly in any case.

Alphys realized bringing an extra set for dnd, in case one malfunctioned, had been good foresight.

Undyne set the box down on a round table. "When are the regulars due?"

"He decided to close down for the day. Your guards will have to entertain themselves."

"Ppphht, okay, just making sure you didn’t eat them." Undyne spared her a look. "Guess they’re not young enough?"

Muffet grinned wider. "They’ve not impeded on my property, have they? They’re safe until then. And, if you want semantics, my lovely _pet_ ate your little spies. Not I."

Umiyo grabbed Undyne’s arm. "Calm your tits, kiddo. We came to play, not fight."

Undyne deflated-- it was only then Alphys realized Undyne had been ready to get physical. Only now it occurred to her that maybe she wasn’t the only one stressed.

"Summon him, would you?" Umiyo asked Muffet. "I’m too old for this bullshit."

Muffet regarded Umiyo for a moment before she broke into a wide smile. "Right away, dearie."

For some reason, that gave Umiyo a chill. She suddenly realized just how outnumbered they were. Between Grillby, Muffet, this new stranger-- and the two other magic signatures coming to the door behind them.

Umiyo whirled around and readied defensive magic as the door opened. Belatedly, everyone, including Muffet, turned too.

Sans and Papyrus came in, cheerily. Papyrus was carrying a literal bucket of spaghetti.

Umiyo assessed them before dropping the shields. "So I guess _now_ it’s a fucking party."

Sans eyed them all before lazily leaning on the wall, still directly in his brother’s path. Papyrus placed his boot against his shoulder and _shoved_ , sending Sans sprawling over the nearest booth.

"Nice." Undyne chortled.

Muffet shook her head and pointed at the bar. "Put it there, Papy dear. I’ll be right back."

Alphys shuffled in place, unsure what to do.

Umiyo spoke. "So, either of you idiots gonna introduce yourselves?"

Undyne pulled Umiyo closer to her and gestured between her and Papyrus. "This is Papyrus."

"Oh. Him. I see." She said. "He’s quieter than you storied."

Papyrus set the bucket down where instructed. He turned to the hunched, slightly withered figure. "THANK YOU. I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THAT."

"Holy fucking hellfire." She stared blankly up at him. The spectacles Alphys had made her sparked as she studied him. "Go back to being quiet."

Alphys cracked up and nudged Umiyo’s shoulder, who turned. She pointed at Sans, who had slid back to his feet and was watching the room with that falsely disinterested expression. "Th-that’s Sans."

"yo." He raised his hand kinda, before letting it sink back down with a _thump_ against the edge of the table. He suppressed the wince.

"That one’s okay. Doesn’t make my ears bleed. But he’s ugly as a fucking ulcer."

"You mean urchin?" Undyne asked.

"Same thing, whatever." Umiyo griped.

"DOES THAT MEAN I AM BEAUTIFUL?"

“Both of you got faces only a mother could love."

Sans chuckled. "hey, paps, that means she loves us."

Umiyo gave Sans a glare. "I would normally be aggravated, but I guess I set you up for that one. Alphys told me you’re a smartass. If you can make me laugh, you live. Remember that."

"No dust in my bar, please." Grillby sighed, coming in shirtless. Alphys’ mouth hung open for a moment before she closed it with a noticeable _click_.

Behind him, another monster entered, also shirtless. With horns. And scales. Oh, gods, right in the kinks. Alphys once again had to close her mouth. Was she drooling? Oh, _fuck_.

Grillby motioned to you. "This is Slake, my adopted child.”

Umiyo sighed. "Well, they got your good looks.”

Undyne groaned. "Mom, gross."

"Get over it and get outta denial. I know you’re the gayest gay to ever gay, but _look_ at ‘em."

" _Mom_!"

Alphys went to the box and cracked it open. "Ever-ryone ga-guh- _gather_ ‘round." She pulled out the first set of headgear and passed it to Umiyo, who squinted at it through her glasses. Undyne helped her put it on, careful of her silver-tinged cheek-fins.

"What the fresh hell?" Umiyo groused.

"It’s a fertile reality." Undyne answered.

"A _what_?!"

"Vuh-va- _virtual_ reality!" Alphys squacked.

"I still have no idea what that is." She said.

Sans moved forward to take one of the headsets. "it shows you something that’s not real in a way that makes you _feel_ like it’s real. harmless gadget."

"Thanks, deformed bone-goblin."

Undyne cracked up and put her own on. You made eye contact with Alphys and she blushed madly. You spoke. "So we’re playing this game with vr? Holy shit that’s cool! Did you design this yourself?"

_Oh god no, they’re a cute nerd._

Alphys threw a headset at you like a football and shoved her head into the box so she could short-circuit in peace.

Grillby, Muffet, and Papyrus got theirs on soon after you, and Alphys went around flipping the switches on after everyone sat down. She sat between Undyne and Umiyo and put hers on.

But when she flipped the switch--

* * *

[BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGUUUAAAAAAGUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA](https://youtu.be/gsNaR6FRuO0)

* * *

 

The first thing Alphys became aware of was mass hysteria. The second thing was the lovely slightly-autotuned voice of Mettaton.

"Nice of you to join us, doctor." Mettaton purred.

"Wha-what’s going on here?"

"Nothing really, darling. Just… made a few minor adjustments while you were… erm… _asleep_ in the back room."

Alphys and Undyne traded glances and blushed. "How much of that did you catch?" Undyne asked, resigned.

"More than enough to write a particularly vivid song."

" _jeezus_ al, what’d ya _do_?" Sans asked. "what the fuck’s going on?"

"I’m of mind with this gross lump here." Umiyo asked, gesturing at Sans.

Mettaton sighed. "Nothing that anyone should worry about." His voice dropped lower, making your skin crawl with unease. "Just let me return the thought. _I_ will be your dungeon master today. I will assess your character traits and assist you all with making characters and backstories post-haste."

"HELLO METTATON, I VOLUNTEER TO GO FIRST!"

"Very well."

Umiyo tugged Alphys toward her before doing the same to Undyne, dragging her by her face-fin. Grillby chuckled a bit away. Umiyo clicked her tongue at him. "With all due respect, sir, shut up." She turned back to her girls. " _What_ did you _do_?"

Undyne sputtered, her fin still in Umiyo’s grasp. Alphys stammered for what seemed like a full minute before Undyne finally managed to speak over her. "WE WERE PLANNING A THANK YOU GIFT FOR HIM AND HE OVERHEARD AND NOW HE’S GONNA ＳＬＡＮＤＥＲ US."

Umiyo released Undyne. "Alphys, is this true?"

"Yes!" She wailed.

"Shut up, both of you! And here I thought he caught you fuck-roleplaying one room away from the Orphan Unit!"

Everyone else was trying hard not to laugh, but this was better than Mettaton’s programs. Not that that was saying much, in your opinion.

 _Wait_.

"Oh shit." You turned to Sans. "The guy who’s dm-ing this campaign is the same who’s most popular show is based on [Hop! Step! Instant Death!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hh8hkx6uxwM) so on a scale from one to ten, how fucked are we?"

Papyrus came back to you both now. The only thing that told you it was still Papyrus was the feeling of his energy. He was a towering tiefling monk, barechested with skin the color of ash and vibrant crimson horns. His eyes matched and burned with an intensity that spoke to you.

Sans looked from you to Papyrus. " _hey, mettaton_ , i volunteer to go next!"

 

* * *

 

Sans turned out to be a halfling skald. He looked up at Papyrus. "you should totally let me ride on your shoulder. like a bird or a cat or some shit."

"METTATON, SANS IS NOW MY FAMILIAR."

"Noted."

"wait no."

Mettaton, as it turned out, was really sweet. Did you trust him? _Hell no._ But he let you keep your dragon body. However, soon the two of you clashed over your backstory.

"I can accept you being a rogue swashbuckler, however you do not have enough starting gold to have a full-fledged ship."

"Can’t I roll against you for that? Please?"

He grumbled. "Just so you know, your probability is slim to none."

"What if I..." You grinned as you figured a plan. Sure, it was cheating but you were a _swashbuckling rogue_ ; cheating was part of your character! "What if I sing for it?"

"What?" You could _hear_ his interest.

"If I can impress you with a song, you give me one roll."

"Impress? Not amuse? Hmph." He paused. "Go on, then." He silenced the others and forced them to listen up.

Goddammit. You’d hoped you would have had a singular audience with him. Then again singing in front of the only superstar in the entire Underground was bad enough.

Hell, this whole thing was an excuse for Undyne and Alphys--and thus, the king as well!-- to judge you on how much of a threat you were. But hell, if you could immobilize someone, what else could you do?

You also rationalized that your character wouldn’t be shy. You could just… pretend. You could act, slip into the persona of Dread Pirate Slake Obsidiamber.

You let a devilish smile warp your face. Now that you’d hyped yourself up, though, you needed a song.

"hey slake. do the thing."

"HOW SPECIFIC."

Well, you had a good guess what song he meant in any case. You considered it but said, "No, I think I got one." and set yourself up. It was a song you’d sung at home alone frequently.

"Isn’t she perfect? Isn’t she everything I need? Isn’t she worth it, even if I can barely breathe? Now the days drag on, but no one seems to care anymore. And we had our time, but now we’re just dirty and bored."

So far no one was really impressed, but it was enough subtle buildup that you could work your magic around.

"So you take, and you take, and you leave me dry. And you break to escape and you know I’m right. Not a day, not a day, not another night. You’re so wonderful, you’re so wonderful."

Your magic around the visiting fish and lizard swayed them slightly, brought to mind peace and hope. If they’d associate that to you, they’d cringe to destroy you.

"Isn’t this perfect? Isn’t this everything I need? _Damned if I’m worth it!_ Damned if I hold my breath to see!" Suddenly there was interest. You grinned again and upped the ante. "Now the days drag on _and I don’t even care anymore!_ And we’ve had our fun, but now we’re just dirty and bored!"

You focused on Mettaton, who was apparently rendered absolutely silent. You focused on his stats for you. The engine he used to make your rolls-- you targeted it.

"So you take, and you take, and you leave me dry. And you break to escape and you know I’m right. _Not a day! Not a day, not another night._ You’re so wonderful. You’re so wonderful."

You set your probability of rolling less than a 15 to 15%, and your probability to rolling a 1 to 1%. And then, before you ended the chorus, you covered the edit with something that made it seem inconspicuous. And now all you had to do was finish the song.

"Isn’t she perfect? Isn’t she everything I need? Isn’t she worth it, even if I can barely breathe?" You put enough force behind the final chorus that you _felt_ your power.

"So you _take_ and you _take_ and you leave me dry. And you _break_ to escape and you know I’m right. _Not a DAY! Not another night!_ You’re so wonderful. You’re so wonderful-- NOT A DAY! Not another night! You’re so wonderful. You’re so wonderful. You’re so wonderful..."

As you stopped, it hit you that you’d just scream-sang one of your most personal songs, right into the metaphorical face of _The_ Mettaton. A _pop_ performer.

You waited for a reaction. _Any_ reaction.

"That was…" you held your breath. " _Wow_." He whispered.

You looked back at Umiyo, Alphys, and Undyne. They looked pretty surprised. Alphys, when she met your eyes, squeaked and looked down.

You glanced at Muffet and Grillby, who both looked stunned. Grillby even looked impressed. He nodded, Muffet covered her face with her hands. Very conspicuously.

Papyrus began clapping enthusiastically, and when you turned to look at them, Sans gave you a thumbs up. You wondered if they knew what you did.

Mettaton cleared his throat. You looked up into the haze where his voice emanated. "Hmph, well. I’ll give you one roll. Don’t expect it again."

You nodded and waited. You felt him roll your character. And again. And again. "You’re kidding me." He said. You could tell he was wondering if he could just lie.

"What happened?" You asked, biting your cheek so you didn’t laugh.

He sighed. “What will you name your ship?"

You grinned. "Uhhhhh can I get uhhhhh..."

"The S.S. Uh Can I Get A. That works."

You scowled up but decided not to press your luck.

Alphys and Undyne went up next, and came back as a cat-shifter artificer and a lightning-genasi tank of some sort respectively.

Grillby was a drow necromancer in tight twink leathers and overlarge World Of Warcraft elf ears. _Someone_ had a couple fetishes.

Umiyo was literally herself, but younger, somehow. You asked her what her weapon proficiencies were, and she told you she could wield just about anything that wasn’t a bow or crossbow. She never was good at aiming and, well, she was still down an arm.

Muffet wanted to be a healer. Mettaton argued with her at first; he obviously didn’t want the party to _have_ a healer. Muffet ended up victorious, thankfully, and, when told there were no playable six-armed races, she settled for being six-armed warforged-- wait, how?

She charmed Mettaton by flattering him, as her character would pay homage to him as a gorgeous robot with deadly tendencies-- just… with two extra arms.

Holy shit. It came to your attention that Muffet could likely talk her way out of or into anything.

When she rejoined you, you whispered. "Dude, _teach_ me."

She winked with two of her eyes. "You hardly need my help, dearie."

"Okay, darlings, listen up!" Mettaton’s tone brooked no argument. "Keep your wits about you during this campaign. Taking over the game required me putting you all in stasis. Anything you do in this game will directly affect your body, but dampened just enough that I still have the final say in whether you dust or not. Bear that in mind."

Grillby spoke. "I can’t help but wonder if this was planned."

Mettaton chuckled darkly. "I’ll try not to play favorites."

Muffet raised her hand. "Does that mean if we have sex in this game, we’ll feel it?"

Sans gave her an odd look. "who the _fuck_ are you gonna fuck?"

"Calm down. And don’t act like you weren’t thinking it."

"i _wasn’t_."

"I WAS." Papyrus admitted.

You rubbed at your temples. Grillby chuckled. "So do you have a pirate crew, or shall I raise one for you?"

"Oh, you’re a necromancer, that’s right. You look like a BDSM fanatic, minus a gimp mask, and seeking his dom."

"I’ve never bottomed before. It seems interesting." He said.

"Oh sweet jeezus I didn’t wanna know that."

Mettaton sighed. "Why is _everyone’s_ first thought about using this for sex reasons?"

Umiyo objected. "You’ll have a hard time getting my ass interested in anyone."

There was a pause. "We’ll see about that, murder-granny."

You snickered. You could see now that Mettaton was a slut for challenges. You could use that.

Sans looked up at you curiously. You picked him up like a toddler and tossed him onto your shoulders. He grabbed onto your horns and then leaned to mutter into your ear.

"be careful what you say aloud here. it’s all recorded data. don’t talk about my kinks."

You laughed, figuring he was just deflecting any suspicion. "I’m fairly certain everyone is aware you’re kinky. I’m thinking you have a size kink, or else you wouldn’t get a nosebleed when you look up at me."

"shit!" He clutched his nose and almost fell off your shoulders. "you _fucker_ there’s no blood!"

"I mean, my point still stands. In that form, your head and _second head_ are pretty close together… so the blood rush from one to the other must be quick." You shook your head, slinging him around a bit.

"what are you trying to say?"

"That your semi went from 0 to 100 pretty quickly against the back of my neck.”

You’d never have believed Sans could squeak, but he did.

Mettaton broke into your exchange. "Now, I will drop you all into this same port. Those of you who know each other is as follows: Undyne, Umiyo, and Alphys. The three of you are investigating a string of villages that have been wiped out. This village is filled with beautiful, artistic warforged. Right now is their Festival of Music."

He cleared his throat. Grillby, Muffet, Slake. Slake is your captain, and you’ve docked in this town to stock up and gather info about new jobs. I advise you all to split up, since the group of you are very recognizable and you’re all wanted the next town over for bounties exceeding a small family’s lifetime earnings."

Sans and Papyrus glanced at each other. Mettaton sighed. "And you two. You’re bounty hunters, surveying the crowd for anyone who can net you your next meal."

There was a pause as everyone looked at each other. Mettaton, unseen, clapped. "I will now drop you all into the simulation! Have fun, and if you need to roll for something, just use your magic. My engines will read you intent, and we can play in real time!"

"Oh my god this is awesome." You groaned.

 

* * *

 

The din was incredible. Sounds, the shrieking of metal on metal, singing and music, some of it coming from internal speakers of the warforged.

You glanced at Grillby and Muffet and sighed. "I’ll hit the square. I feel like doing some pocket-work."

Grillby nodded. "I’ll go shop for supplies.Muffet should get food."

"With what gold, Uncle?"

He sighed. "Flirt for it. That’s what _I_ intend to do."

She shrugged. "Well, I mean, I’m a warforged. In a warforged town." She looked around. "Y’know what? Fuck it. Time to make friends in high places. Gonna look for whoever’s in charge around here and hustle them."

"Hustle or Rustle?" You asked, wriggling your eyebrows.

"Depends on how cute they are." She winked.

And so you found yourself in the town square, festival in full swing around you. Carts crying Oil-treats, soap-prizes, and other strange things surrounded the plaza. At the center was a large fountain-- of oil, of course.

There were warforged of every shape and size walking around. And yet there were almost as many other races here. You weren’t the only creature with flesh out here. What a relief.

There was a guy admiring the fountain not too far away from your vantage point. He wore fancy clothes and looked completely enraptured with the scenery.

 _Jackpot._ He’d be easy pickings. "Target locked." You muttered to yourself and made your move.

You felt your roll fail and bit your tongue. You had been in the process of extracting his wallet from his pocket when someone stumbled over your tail, throwing you off balance. You toppled forward, your free hand grasping the stranger’s fleshy ass.

He turned to see you holding his wallet.

You thought fast. "Sorry, I tripped. Did you drop this?" A half-truth. This was gonna go well.

You knew someone was rolling something-- and then the knight smiled broadly and innocently. "Oh! Thank you! Say, could you show me around the festivities? I’m unfamiliar with this sprawling city and have been wandering in circles."

Your face froze. _Oh. My. God. I am SO taking advantage of you!_ "Hell yeah, let’s go then!"

You both must have wandered for a while-- but you didn’t get any more chances at that wallet. You were less concerned about that, honestly. It had felt empty when you held it… maybe he stored his wealth elsewhere? It’d be smart.

Then again… he seemed very… off.

You thought about Mettaton. He’d pull some fucked up shit, wouldn’t he? You decided that the best way to know what was going on was to use your magic to roll a perception check.

It was then you felt it. Magic. _Sans’_ magic. Coming from directly above you.

You felt a weight of a small creature landing on your head, moving to stand on your shoulders, and thrusting a bag over your head. You went to cry out for your naive companion to help you when you felt him shove you into the alleyway nearest you.

"did anyone see us?" Sans asked.

You felt Papyrus’ magic now, too-- coming from the stranger, now that his disguise was apparently dropped.

"I don’t think so." He stage-whispered.

"This is a mistake." You told them.

"why’s that?" Sans tugged your horns and you felt a strange feeling in your gut.

"Don’t do that." You said. "I assume you know who I am."

"paycheck." Sans said sagely.

"Rent." Papyrus added.

You clenched your jaw. "I see. Take the bag off my head."

"Why? So you may see us and become captivated?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, exactly."

You felt a roll and that it ruled in your favor. The bag got plucked off your head. You stared defiantly up at Papyrus. You wondered if his horns made him feel weird too.

"Impulse check." Mettaton narrated. "And, that’s a very narrow failure. That means--"

You reached up, grabbed a horn and leveraged him down by it to kiss him hard and passionately.

"what the ff--" Sans was holding onto your horns and at the sudden movement almost went flying over Papyrus’ back.

Papyrus tore himself away, his face darkened heavily with blush, eyes wide. He grabbed the bases of his horns. You hitched an eyebrow at him. He blinked at you cluelessly.

Mettaton slow-clapped. "You did better than I could have. I was going to make you kick him in the balls and try to run."

_Welp._

Sans tugged your horns again and you growled. Reaching up at him and plucking him off by his shirt. You dangled him like a kitten in front of your muzzle.

His expression went from fear to lust so fast it gave you whiplash.

"i’ll have to remember your horns are sensitive." He muttered.

"I could literally eat you in three bites."

"there is _so_ much innuendo i could make outta that."

Mettaton groaned in frustration. "Can we get back to the plot? I don’t care about your weird fear-kink or whatever foreplay this is."

Sans’ face went ghostly white at the phrase "fear-kink." Oh god, that explained a bit.

Papyrus grabbed Sans’ knife and busted your wrist so you dropped him. From the ground you heard a soft thud and then a deadpan "ow."

Papyrus held the knife to your neck. "You’ll come with us, quietly."

"Captain Obsidiamber?" Grillby’s voice rang. Papyrus stiffened. Four undead creatures surrounded the three of you. "Release the captain or you’ll join their undead crew."

A long beat of silence passed before you spoke. "I’ll make you two a deal, since that was the most fun I’ve had in five minutes."

Now that you had everyone’s attention, you continued. "How about you join us, alive. Think on it. Adventure, food, and shelter."

Sans’ stomach growled. "i’m not gonna argue."

You smiled down at him before turning your attention to Papyrus, who still held the knife, though he had little direction now.

You made a kiss face at him and he squacked and dropped the knife.

Grillby let his summoned creatures turn to dust. "Muffet has told us to meet in the tavern not far from here. Let’s go."

With your new companions in tow, you followed Grillby.

“This is only going to get worse, isn’t it?” You wondered aloud.

Mettaton chuckled darkly. “Oh, darling~ you have noooo idea.”

The subsequent shudder that wracked your body did 3 points of psychic damage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO'S EXCITED? WHO IS FUCKING STOKED? WHO WANTS TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
> 
> Who's your favorite character? What's your favorite interaction so far? Let me know in the comments, it might be the only way I get through the weekend lmao.
> 
> Also, don't worry, Muffet will be back, and we'll get plenty of her. As for Umiyo, Undyne, and Alphys? They'll come into play soon enough, and it's gonna be fucking epic.


	18. Muffet, Cleric of That-God/Goddess & Grillby, Bondage-Twink.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another dnd chapter!
> 
> Where nothing really pertinent to the story happens.  
> Nothing even vaguely important.  
> Heh. heheh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These take a lot of energy to write, but I'm pacing myself. 
> 
> I currently have a fever, am congested as balls, and trying to make myself better as quickly as possible. So if anyone wants to donate so I can buy some tissues, I'd be very grateful. Hell, I'd love to make myself some soup, too. Fuck. I'm gonna have to get out, spend my last 10 bucks on butter, tomato products, burger, and cornbread mix. because soup would be goddamn divine right now.
> 
> please be nice to me, i'm beginning to get delirious.

You hadn’t noticed how chilly it was outside before you came in and were pelted in warm, pleasant air, complete with the aroma of fresh meat pies. They must take their non-mechanical patrons very seriously.

No, wait. There was a candle on a table, tri-colored like the French flag. "Hey Mettaton?" You asked, and you felt his attention on you. "Is that candle French?"

There was a pause. You inspected the candle closer and saw a very French moustache carved into it. And it was, indeed, what made the smell.

Toward the corner, there was a visibly rich warforged nobleman. You and Sans zero’d in on him at the same time and exchanged glances.

"gonna do it?" He asked.

"Too easy."

"heh. worried that one will be a bounty hunter, too?"

"No, it’d literally be too easy. A waste of my time. It’s so easy, _you_ could do it."

"y’know what. you’re right. and to prove it, i’m gonna do it. i need beer money."

"That’s the **spirit**." You winked at him.

"stop, slake, i can only get so erect."

You cackled as he found a hiding spot and began crawling to the bag at the feet of the table the man sat at.

The man stepped on his fingers, and in flinching, Sans hit his head on the underside of the table. That was a critical fail if you’d ever seen one--

But then the man scooted his chair back, grabbed Sans by the throat, and held him aloft by it. His voice was too calm. “Now what is it exactly you think you’re doing?”

Sans’ eyes were huge and he blinked stupidly for a moment before, "i… dropped something?" And you felt the gears grinding as he rolled.... a critical success.

The highborn smiled and said, “All right!” and promptly set Sans back down.

You were still braying laughter when he came back to stand with you and Papyrus.

Papyrus poked Sans in the forehead before pointing in another direction. "Please break that broom. I dislike the way it's staring at me with its broom eyes... broomily."

"why can’t you?" Sans groused.

"I failed my dignity check. And you’re my minion."

"no i’m not."

Now you and Grillby were listening too. This sounded good.

Papyrus hitched a brow. "Is that so?"

"i’m a tiefling." He said with full sincerity.

You felt Mettaton rolling not just Sans’ bluff skill, but everyone else’s perception. _Everyone else failed_ , and Sans succeeded in his roll with flying colors.

Mettaton droned. "He’s a tiny, misshapen, hornless tiefling. And since Papyrus critical failed--"

"MY LONG LOST BROTHER. ALL THESE YEARS, AND I NEVER KNEW. THIS MAKES ME REGRET MAKING YOU MY PET.”

Muffet appeared behind you, and you only realized this when you felt her give into the palpable urge to grasp your tail and run her fingers through the luxurious hair on it. You yelped and whirled, your tail spinning and hitting Sans square in the jaw.

 _thwack!_ “jesus fuckin christ!” He rubbed his face. “how the fuck did that do five points of damage?”

“Goddamn it, Muffet, you scared the shit out of me.”

You felt Mettaton roll against you-- probably in an attempt to actually make you shit yourself. You almost cried from relief when you realized you succeeded.

Muffet giggled, oblivious to your very real nigh-humiliation. “I’m sorry~ ahuhuhuhuuu! It’s just that I need to introduce you to…” Her voice lilted a bit too low and sultry for a moment. “Mr. Lowgold.”

You couldn’t help but just stare at her. “Wow, Muffet, already?”

“I’ve been alone for a while. Don’t shame me.”

“I honestly have no room to.” You admitted. “Speaking of, these are my two newest crew members.” You motioned to Sans and Papyrus.

The highborn that Sans failed to steal from stepped up behind Muffet and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling against her ear. She went to putty immediately. She giggled. “Hows about we all sit down and work talk, then?”

You looked at her. Looked at him. Looked at Sans.

You started laughing. Grillby, Sans, and Papyrus all stepped past you to sit at the table the newly-met Mr. Lowgold previously occupied. Lowgold gave Muffet a kiss on the cheek and returned to the table.

“Mettaton is much more lovely than the tv makes him out to be.” Muffet remarked under her breath. “I _still_ feel like I’m fucking boneless. I need a drink. Want anything, dearie?”

You leaned in closer to her. “You literally rp’d a sex scene with Mettaton? I’m not judging, I’m just… surprised?”

“Current political climate doesn’t allow much canoodling. It was an opportunity, neither of us backed down, and that was seriously the most satisfying sex I believe I’ve had in years.”

You blinked at her and giggled. “Okay, okay. But, onto the more important bits--”

“It was _sooo_ good. Follow me to the bar, I seriously need a drink after that.” She practically dragged you there. The bartender assessed her. She winked at him and giggled. “I need the strongest thing you got.”

He snapped his fingers and from the back room a massive troll wearing a loincloth and a collar came out. She stared wide-eyed at him before sighing and turning back to the bartender. “I appreciate the tempting offer, sweetie, but no. I meant your strongest _drink_.”

You facepalmed.

After Muffet got her drink, she finally allowed the subject matter to change from how sexually satisfied she was to the matter at hand. But you had a feeling the topic would revert the first chance she got-- and she’d probably want you to gush about sex too.

“So, I got some info out of him. And a lot of money. And a favor.” _And an orgasm._ Her afterglow screamed it, even if she didn’t say it aloud. “First off, he’s sent a three-person group to stave off an entire army and now he realizes that was probably not the best plan to stop the army. So I told him we’d go. Luckily, he’s not the boring emotional type, so he didn’t get too melodramatic about how he needs me, how I can’t go. Mmmng but that would have been nice, too.”

“Muffet do you need a hug?”

“ _God, yes, you have no idea._ ”

“You’re already drunk, aren’t you?”

“Getting there, ahuhuhuhuhu.” She wrapped you tightly in her arms. “Sorry, I’m tactile and you’re fun to hug.”

You laughed. “Okay, Muffet, let’s get back to the party.”

“No. I’m not done hugging you.”

“It’s not a hug if you’re touching my ass.”

“It’s so _firm_!” She said. “Okay, maybe I am drunk.”

“Got more hands than you know what to do with.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Starting to get **handsy**.”

“Oh my god, I will kill that boy for ruining you with his shitty humor.” She finally let you go.

“Now that I’ve dried you up…”

“If only.”

You pretended she hadn’t said that. “We should probably return to the others. Your new friend keeps looking this way.”

“I really hope that when I get back into my own body, after all this is done, I can forget what alcoholic oil tastes like.”

“I am so fucking sorry.”

“Me too.” She said, and you guided her stumbling form back to the table. She sat in Mr. Lowgold’s lap.

You sat directly across from Lowgold and gave him what you hoped was a winsome, if roguish smile. “So, Muffet tells me you’ve got a job for us?”

“Yes. I certainly do. There were once three villages to the west of here.”

“The sea is to the west, dearie.” Muffet corrected quietly.

“There were once three villages to the east of here.” Lowgold said. “One of which was home of my business, Lowgold’s Kobolds. We sold Kobold accessories. Because they need them. They are short. I believe your small friend could use some of our products.” He gestured to Sans, who didn’t react. He was asleep with his eyes open at the table.

“It’s _actually_ because of your name, isn’t it?” Grillby asked.

“Absolutely.” Lowgold admitted cheerily. “But it’s irrelevant, I suppose, since my business and inventory have been obliterated!”

“You are incredibly happy for someone who’s lost his livelihood!” Papyrus said, leaning forward.

Lowgold’s eye circuits bugged and he grinned, leaning in as well. “I do the warforged equivalent of cocaine.” He whispered.

Muffet’s expression was priceless. “How does that _work_?”

You shook your head. “Okay, so get on with it. Who or what did the thing?”

“OH YESSSSS THAT’S RIIIIGHT!” His face was downright creepy now. Muffet now looked somewhat uncomfortable, him yelling right near where her ears would be, if she had them. Lowgold went on, “There is an army of orcs and half-orcs, led by one Mor'guth Rend-render.”

“Rend-render?” Grillby groused.

“His parents were notoriously uninspired.” Lowgold explained. “The army has been picking off villages one by one. They have reasons. I do not know what they are. But they destroyed my production line-- and now they must all die. So I sent a crew of not one, not two, but _three_ adventurers to take care of the problem.”

There was a beat of silence. Papyrus spoke. “How many is in this army?”

“Somewhere between a dozen and three hundred.” He answered nonchalantly.

“And.” Papyrus cocked his head at the robot. “And you sent. Three people. That’s all.”

“Ah, no. I sent three _adventurers_.” He smiled. “They're hardly people. They take payment in odd shit I find around the house, and if they don’t survive, no one will miss them!”

“Oh my _god_.” You stared at him.

Muffet made eye contact with you. It was a look that said “I regret everything.”

“so what’re you paying them? or what are you paying _us_?” Sans asked suddenly, standing on the seat to see clearly over the table.

“I offered them a look through my surviving warehouse. As I also offer to you.”

“what, are you some kind of collector or something?” Sans prodded.

“My grandson,” Muffet’s thousand-mile-stare was heartrending, “he’s a budding enchanter. He’s very good at it, so I showcase it all in my warehouse. Where it can gather dust far, far away from the public eye.”

“Okay!” You smacked the table. “We’ll take the job. C’mon, Muffet.” You got up and everyone else hesitated to get up as quickly as you and Muffet did. You all hit the door as hard as you could and once outside you grabbed her shoulder. “Not that I’m one to talk, really, but…”

“I certainly know how to pick them.” She said, nodding. “I know where the army’s last location is, let’s just go, please.”

 

* * *

 

The encampment was in a canyon, which would make it hard to take them down without some kind of miracle. However, your group couldn’t get down far enough to be in range to even snipe some of them off.

Muffet spoke. “It’s odd we haven’t seen any trace of the group he sent before us. They can’t have died _that_ easily.”

You nodded.

“Look that way.” Grillby pointed. In the rear of the marching force, there was a cage with three sleeping or dead creatures. Upon further inspection, they were probably humanoids. Maybe. It was far away. You might need glasses. How would you wear glasses with this snoot?

“slake, not that your expression when you squint isn’t fucking priceless, but, uh… that’s them.”

“Oh, right.” You said. “I knew that.”

Grillby sighed. “I could summon a good few soldiers for us, but we’d still be gravely outnumbered, and any small dent I could make on them before they locate us and overtake us would be totally ineffective.”

“Well!” Papyrus put his hands on his hips and stood. “That makes our objective absolutely clear!”

“Give up?” Muffet asked flatly.

“Of course not!” He said. “It means we face the army head-on.”

“[Apply directly to your motherfucking forehead](https://youtu.be/1uXyC4oRTEA).” You said. 

There was silence. “...what?”

“Anyways.” Papyrus went on. “We face them head on, and--”

“Head on, motherfucker!”

“Slake, please, I’m serious.”

“So am I. We’re going to die.”

“No, we are not.” He insisted. “We face them. And we challenge their leader to battle. For honor.”

“Why the hell would they agree to let us face their leader in armed combat, the five of us against him?” You asked.

He pointed down at them again. “Look at them. They have a strong sense of pride in their strength. If we have even the slightest chance, we’ll have to use that pride against them.”

You stared at him. Grillby wiped a tear from his eye. “You paid attention. I’m so happy.”

“Of course I paid attention! Why would you think to the contrary?”

“Every time I told a war tactics story, you’d fall asleep.”

“I like stories.”

“Guys!” You interrupted. “Guys, they’re still camped. If they’re camped it means they can’t retreat, right?”

Grillby gave you a look. “I mean, yeah, but they wouldn’t retreat anyhow. Why would an entire army retreat at the sight of five low-level adventurers and a small squadron of low-level shambling corpses?”

 _Levels?_ “Grillby, shit, what level are these guys?”

“Let’s just say we’re fucked as hell if Papyrus isn’t right.”

“So we’re decided on that? Okay, I’m fine with dying now.” Muffet said.

“c’mon, slake, let’s go.”

“This is a bad idea.” You said, but followed. “But we’ll face it head on, I fucking guess.”

 

* * *

 

The first couple of half-orcs you attacked. They had come off the encampment to scout for food. The group of you beat them within an inch of their lives and told them you wanted to see their leader, Mor'guth Rend-render for a fight of honor and glory.

When, five minutes later, you got exactly what you asked for, you realized it was a big mistake.

“One on five. I accept this match.” His voice was like distant thunder. The bass of it shook the ground immediately around you. “It will be much more challenging than the last battle.”

Whereas normally battle in DND was turn-based, you quickly discovered that Mettaton’s computing capabilities allowed him not just to maintain multiple pov control in this simulation, but also implementing real-time combat.

It occurred to you that he was gathering data on your fighting style for records.

“If we defeat you, you stop marching on the nearby villages, and you surrender your three prisoners.” Papyrus said, slipping into his fighting stance, Sans on his shoulders with a drawn bow.

“Is that all?” Mor'guth chuckled. “Fine. And if I win, you all shall join them.” His eyes lingered on Grillby.

Grillby summoned fifteen skeletal soldiers and surrounded himself before drawing his dagger, holding a spelled orb in his off hand. “I would feel so much more confident with a sword right now.” He said.

“i’m glad my character has bow proficiency, because _i sure don’t_!” Sans yelled back.

Muffet drew her mace. And her mace. And her mace. And a longshield. “Stand back, everyone. Whoever the fuck my god is is gonna smite the hell out of this fucker. Through all of my hands.” She advanced toward him. “And I’m gonna rip his head off his fuckin ne--” He punched her and she went flying, dropping every weapon and even her shield and landing behind you.

“we’re boned.” Sans said flatly.

“Muffet, you alive?” You asked, still facing the hulking brute as he drew his weapon. “I really hope you are, because I don’t think we’ll be for long.”

She groaned in pain from the ground, and Sans hopped down to check on her. “thank fuck skalds are bards.”

“What?”

“i know some healing magic as this character.”

“Do it fast!” You said, standing your ground in front of them as he advanced.

“This was a mistake!” Papyrus said cheerily, coming to stand beside you. “But we can still make the most of the fight. Let’s put your training to work!”

Mor'guth took his time lumbering as Sans dragged Muffet away from the fray to try and heal her. Grillby’s skeletal horde started wailing on him as he walked through them, unaffected.

“I _really_ wish I had a godsdamned sword!” Grillby screamed, summoning more.

“Is it wrong that I want to hold your hand?” You asked suddenly.

Papyrus looked at you, blinked in shock for a second. “I mean, of course not.”

“Good, c’mere.” You grabbed his hand and began siphoning some of his magic off of him. And then you turned to Mor'guth and rolled to pull some straight-up anime shit.

You succeeded. You projectile-vomitted acid all over him. Papyrus was stunned and disgusted, but when you immediately moved to attack, he mirrored you effortlessly.

It’s a shame that all the acid did was eat away at his armor and some of his loincloth. He grabbed both of your weapons, yours by the blade, even. He wrested them from your grips and threw them aside. As you both stood in shock, he grabbed your heads and smashed them together. You both fell to the ground and stayed there.

“goddammit!” Sans yelled. “the fucking dice hate me!”

“Or Mettaton does.” You mumbled.

Grillby came up behind him and tried to stab him in the back of the neck. Mor'guth hissed and turned around, backhanding Grillby and sending him flying. Angered now, he flailed his hammer around, wiping out all the undead that Grillby had summoned.

Grillby stabbed himself in the palm and wiped it on the ground next to him, and a huge zombified half-orc came out and lumbered toward Mor'guth.

He didn’t even hesitate. He swung his hammer at the zombie’s head, and it left its body hurling at mach-speed toward the encampment.

Needless to say, things were going Bad.

Somehow, though, Grillby managed to stand up again.

“Hey, stop. Grillby! Stop!” You said. “You’re not an army leader here. You’re a scrawny drow in leather underwear. Your only weapon is a knife.”

At the sound of your voice, the brute turned back toward you and moved toward you and Papyrus. Papyrus dragged you closer to him and laid himself on top of you, effectively trying to protect you with his own body.

Grillby threw a rock at him. Mor'guth froze. Slowly turned around. Grillby stood there, sporting his knife and a hard-on. “I have one other weapon.” He said.

He had one shot to save everyone by nullifying Mor'guth. Looking up at him, clad only in a set of fur-lined pauldrons and a singed fur loincloth, Grillby assessed his options. Just like, when Mor'guth had been turned around, he’d assessed _that ass_. Hence the erection.

Grillby lunged, screaming, “Die, you sexy sonofabitch!” He rolled a critical failure. But he didn’t panic. His other weapon was his Charisma skill. _He rolled to fall Sexily._ And scored a critical success.

Mettaton’s voice narrated as the scene played out. "You fall down so sensually and perfectly that the orc falls madly in love with you." As the rest of the party looked on up shock, Mor'guth laid down his hammer and got to his knees to gather Grillby up in his arms.

"Oh." Grillby looked absolutely stunned. He must have thought it wouldn’t work. But then he grinned real big and you realized he was definitely not thinking PG thoughts here. As he got to his feet, still cradling his newly acquired precious bondage twink, the army behind him put down their weapons and let out a deafening cry.

Mettaton intoned, "They are pleased. There will be peace. And all I wanted was death. How dare you."

"Do we get anything special?" You asked.

Another orc came to you and made to give you something. You eagerly offered your hand and he dropped a rock into it. It looked like it had a bird dropping stained upon it.

"What’s this?" You asked.

"Gravity rock." The orc said proudly. "Drop it, it hit ground. Gravity work."

"Oh my fucking fuck." You said. And then you turned and threw it as hard as you could at the nearest person. "IS GRAVITY FUCKING WORKING FOR YOU?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading this. please let me know what your favorite parts of this chapter are, as well as how excited you are for Undyne, Alphys, and Umiyo to join the party in the next episode!


	19. Umiyo, Queen of High-Quality Sentient Erotica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reread that title and skip to the comments to tell me what you expect, and edit afterwards to tell me how far off you were.  
> Participants will be dropped a link to the doc where i compile these chapters (there will be some spoilers, but also some bonus content notes from previous/future chapters that I haven't worked in yet.)
> 
> These are fun as hell, but we're nearing the end of the campaign. Just wait. Some shit's gonna go down! THERE IS A REASON FOR THIS MESS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I am dead serious about sharing the link to my chapter-in-progress file. They'll update before and after my work shifts. (6:30 am and 9 pm central time zone because Kentucky has three fucking timezones and I'm smack in the middle of em.)
> 
> So if anyone wants to see the magic unfold, or get sneak peeks at some of the notes that didn't make it into previous chapters...
> 
> I just really like having something to talk about...

The group of you stayed in the encampment for a while. Grillby and the leader were absent for a long while. Enough so that you were worried about one or the other of them.

On the bright side, Alphy, Undyne, and Umiyo were released, and things were going great. Which was surprising.

Umiyo could finally stomach interacting with Papyrus, now that he could talk quietly. Of course, they talked about Grillby, about training under him. You kind of wanted to join in the conversation to learn more about Grillby in his youth--

Undyne sat down roughly next to you. You turned away from their conversation and prepared for Undyne to do or say anything.

"So, how’d you meet my best guard?"

"He hit me really hard with a bone and I didn't die."

There was silence. And then she was laughing hard as hell. "And now you’re fucking? Wow, I thought [fighting as a first date](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4zLoeG5a1I) only happened in anime."

"Anime, you say?" You grinned. "You have anime?"

"Fuck yeah, we do! I’d send some home with Paps but he hates the shit."

"What?"

"He says cartoons are for babies. He knows not to say it again around me, but…"

You shrugged. "He just hasn’t seen the right one yet."

"I like you." Undyne said. "After we get outta this fertile reality, I’m gonna fight you."

"Friendly sparring already?"

"No, it’s a warning. You hurt Papyrus and I’ll dust you. I like you, so it’s a warning of how screwed you are if you fuck up."

You paused. "Thanks?"

"You’re welcome! Now. About something else." She leaned in closer. "Alphys has a thing for horns and scales. Make a move on her and I’ll do worse than kill you."

"Don’t worry about that, honestly." You assured her. "I’m sure she’s lovely but I hardly know her and two partners is enough for me."

She froze. "Two?”

Sans made his presence known at your elbow. You moved your arm and he climbed up to sit on your leg. You laughed at him.

"sup."

"You’re fucking kidding me." Undyne said.

“what’d i miss?"

"You’re fucking _both_ of them?"

"whoa yeah ok i see now."

"What the _hell_?" Undyne looked more disturbed than you thought the situation deserved. Surely poly relationships weren’t _that_ uncommon!

Sans sighed. "undyne, that’s not what’s going on. that’s gross. paps and i both like slake, slake likes both of us. paps and i are adult enough and trust each other enough to not get jealous."

"Oh, so…?"

"no, no. that’s not a thing."

"Oh thank _god_."

"welp, now that i’ve permanently lost my appetite..." Sans jumped back down and went to sit with Alphys.

You and Undyne sat in awkward silence for a moment. Finally, she spoke again. "I don’t see the appeal, but I guess that’s none of my business."

"The appeal is I trust both of them not to maim or kill me." You said, your tone somewhat clipped.

She nodded. "Both of them are secret softies I guess. I knew Paps was, but I always figured Sans was too lazy to give a shit about anything."

"That’s weird." You said, smiling. "I never got that vibe from him. He cares too much. He just doesn’t want to because that’s how you get hurt."

She nodded. "Yeah. That sounds about right. But like, I know next to nothing about Sans so it’s all the same to me." She shook her head now. "I just… can’t imagine sharing Alphys-- especially not with someone I’m related to. It just… feels wrong on so many levels."

You shrugged. "Hmm, guess it’s good that it’s my thing and not yours, huh?"

She sighed. "I have no room to bitch about your relationship."

The word made you flinch. Undyne noticed but chose not to say anything. She went on. "Barely know each other. _It’s not like my opinion of you dictates whether you live or die._ "

You stared at her. She grinned. You grinned back. She stood up and clapped you roughly on the shoulder. "Good talk!" She said. "I’m gonna go fight someone."

You migrated to where Sans and Alphys were talking. After all, if you couldn’t win her over, you’d have failed the entire objective here.

Just like Papyrus had softened his voice in-game, Alphys wasn’t a stammering mess and she was loving it for all it was disorienting. "So, Slake, how are you enjoying the simulation?"

"It’s amazing!" You said. "Did you design all of this? What was the process?"

She looked surprised first, and then she got flustered. "It was nothing, really! I found the books in the dump, pored over them for a couple months, made some systemic adjustments, programmed a basic model, playtested it, reformatted it, added new features, bughunted, adjusted and improved physics engine, added npc interactions and procedurally generated maps and dungeons, improved combat mechanics, archived all special items… ahh…"

"Wow..."

"That was just the first two builds! This is build 7. It’s still imperfect, but since Mettaton is controlling and monitoring it, it functions amazingly. I… guess I’m not programmed to maintain multiple processes simultaneously."

"We’re only h-monsters. And if you’re honest with yourself, you programmed Mettaton, didn’t you? You built his body, made the network through which he functions. You could almost say you created an entire operating system for this game."

You were _so_ hoping she didn’t catch your momentary slip-up.

She nodded. "Yes. I suppose you’re right!" She made a face straight from a shoujo manga and you felt your brows ascend new heights.

"How do you do that?"

"I wrote it in as a racial power!" She whispered conspiratorially.

You laughed.

Sans adjusted how he sat between the two of you. "wow, now i know how it feels to be the odd one out of a nerd conversation."

You poked him in the side and he jumped. He wasn’t used to having skin and organs. How cute. "Go on then, Sans, woo me with your sexy intellect."

He chuckled, but his bashful expression belied him. He couldn’t hide even under all that stubble. He also wasn't used to having face muscles that wouldn't obey him.

You picked him up and set him in your lap like a plush doll. "You’re like a pokemon."

"poke my _what_?"

"I’ve got a masterball with your name on it."

"i’ve got _two_ on this body." He smirked.

"Oh good lord." Alphys said, facepalming.

"gonna put my boner in your masterball. that’s how that works, right?"

Your horrified expression rendered you speechless.

Alphys shook her head. "That’s not how pokemon _or_ boners work."

"you win some, you lose some." He shrugged.

"You just implied I’d carry your dismembered member in a capsule at all times and hurl it at someone to ward off creatures. Imagine how terrible that is."

Sans’ face froze in a smile. You could imagine his sockets being vacant in his real form. "oh god. there is so much in that scenario that’s _wrong_."

"Halfling-Boner, I choose _you_!" You pantomimed throwing something. "Boner used intimidate. It’s super effective!"

Alphys began giggling hysterically.

You and Sans exchanged a glance, and you looked away grinning.

This was a good day.

 

* * *

 

Grillby brought his orc-king with him back to the warforged village. A small band of his highest-level soldiers would be joining your crew.

You couldn’t imagine what Grillby had done for Mettaton to allow that. You didn’t think you wanted to know.

Muffet sat outside with Mor’guth while the rest of you talked to Lowgold. Rewards were divvied up soonafter.

Grillby obtained a wand of Magic Missile and Polymorph. He’d hit everything he could aim at, however, each charge would change him into a randomized creature.

Sans received a cloak of tongues, figuring it’d give him skills in other languages. That would be useful for a bard character-- however, the cloak did no such thing. Lowgold explained why Sans was throwing up in the corner. "The Cloak of Tongues allows you to taste anything for 30 yards around."

"why do you taste like _ass_?"

"Why do you know what ass tastes like?" He quipped back.

Sans gagged silently.

Papyrus was drawn to--

"Mettaton… What is this?"

"It is a pile of…"

"A pile of what?"

“It’s a pile of. I forgot to write this part.”

“Can I roll to touch it?”

“Of course." A brief pause. Papyrus touched the pile of. "You feel… _everything_."

Muffet wasn’t there to claim a reward, but you doubted she’d want any of this junk.

When you asked what you could have, you were handed a rock with bird shit on it. "It’s called a Gravity Rock. If you drop it and it hits the ground, gravity is working." Lowgold explained.

You ground your teeth.

Umiyo was given a weird leatherbound book, Undyne received a jug that could create 2 gallons of mayonnaise at will.

Alphys got 2 different rings of invisibility. One made her invisible, but only to herself. The other made her marginally stealthier but, upon putting it on, no one could convince her that she wasn’t _entirely_ invisible.

When the group of you returned to the bar, Mor’guth handed you a note from Muffet.

"I ordered the strongest thing the bartender had. I’ll see you tomorrow if I can walk."

You hefted the rock in your hand, looking for a good moving target. "At least everyone else is happy." You grumbled.

A few yards away, a man heard, "Gravity check!" before being hit in the shoulder with a rock half the size of his head.

You all decided your ship would be the best way to move on, but you couldn’t leave without Muffet.

Grillby spent the time on the ship, teaching the orcs and his new lover how to work on the ship-- and more importantly, how to clean it to his standards.

Also, his bunk was nice and private for when he wanted to enjoy some quiet time.

Meanwhile, the rest of you stayed in an inn in town. You, Sans, and Papyrus decided to go out and have fun together, leaving Umiyo and her strange children to rest and guard everyone else’s property.

Umiyo had told the others there was a no-lock policy. Particularly because she didn’t want to hear Undyne and Alphys in the other room together, and the door being unlocked made them need to either refrain or be absolutely quiet. Gods knew Umiyo wasn’t afraid to barge in and make them shut up.

They were eating by the fireplace together, speaking too quietly for Umiyo to hear. She shut the door silently and locked it.

Umiyo, contrary to popular belief, was incredibly intuitive and attentive. Whatever she lacked in booksmarts, she made up for with sheer attention to detail and a quickness at learning things hands-on that everyone around her envied.

As a barbarian character, she hardly needed a reason to not feel comfortable reading, but she’d never really liked books personally. So why had Mettaton gave her this book specifically?

When she’d flipped through it before, in the common room, it had been devoid of words or pictures. However, she sensed something fucky was up.

She grabbed the book from her satchel, which lay next to her cot. She flipped it open and began to pace as she studied the words that swam across the page.

Mettaton’s voice in her head was gentle. "I’m going to make a Constitution save for you."

"What does that mean?"

"The book is going to make you go crazy or maybe just die if you don’t succeed a roll."

"Too late to close it?"

"Yes, sorry."

"You should have warned me beforehand, young punk."

"That would be cheating." He reminded her gently.

"You’re lucky I love you." She sighed. "Still can’t help but think you’re playing favorites."

"This isn’t your type of game. I respect you enough to--"

"Cut the shit."

"Ah… Well… I don’t want to kill my gran-kappa." He sounded almost sheepish.

Umiyo softened. "Okay, so am I dying or something?"

"Uh, no… but it’s still going to hurt you. I’m sorry."

"That’s okay, I’m good with pai--OH MY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCKERING COCKRING IS THIS?! Oh shIT OH FUCK OH FUCKING **SHIT**!"

Psychic damage doesn’t adhere to your average pain threshold, apparently.

_I’m gonna kick your ass, you little mecha-turd!_

Alphys knocked on the door. "Mom? You okay? Do you need anything?"

Umiyo couldn’t even respond, having collapsed in the middle of the floor, the book open with the pages down in front of her.

A voice that was not Mettaton and was otherwise also unfamiliar emanated from the book. "You should probably answer the door. She sounds concerned for your well-being."

Umiyo stared at the book and saw a face form from the wrinkles in the leather. Eyes, a mouth. The eyes were dead white with a pinkish tint, its mouth pulled taut. When he spoke you saw blunt teeth within, tiny enough she could imagine they’d still shred flesh.

It was the absolute most terrifying thing she’d ever seen.

"Whatever this thing did to me is flipping me out..."

The book’s voice was patient and deep. "You are not hallucinating, nor are you in danger. I am merely speaking to you."

Alphys must have heard the decidedly masculine voice and was absolutely losing her mind. "UNDYNE HELP ME BREAK THIS DOOR!"

Undyne didn’t seem too worried, still in the common room. "Mom said not to go in her room."

Alphys was not having any of that shit. "FINE! _I’ll_ fucking do it, hold on Mom!"

Alphys threw herself at the door but though its hinges protested, she just couldn’t hit it hard enough.

Undyne sighed and came to investigate more closely. "What the hell’s going on over here?"

"I heard a voice! And Mom’s not answering when I call for her!"

"Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me that, not only did she lock her door, but mom brought someone into her room without letting any of us know, despite saying she’d never do that?” Undyne took a huge breath and then shouted at the top of her lungs. "MOMMA, YOU GONNA HAVE TO EXPLAIN SOME SHIT! NGAAAAAAH!“ Undyne got a running start and dropkicked the door, which happened to be a critical success.

The door swung open and Umiyo looked up from the floor, face flushed, slouched over, hair clinging to her forehead from sweat and the book clutched against her chest.

Umiyo took several deep breaths before she proved that despite her age and size, she’d always be louder than her daughter. "CAN’T I READ AND GET WRECKED BY A BOOK IN PEACE AROUND HERE?!”

Undyne reached back for the door and closed it back, eyes wide. Umiyo was not bothered again that night.

 

* * *

 

You, Sans, and Papyrus hit the bazaar, since the sheer amount of shit you pocketed in Lowgold’s “treasure” warehouse while he wasn’t looking amounted to a small fortune.

You were exploring a weapons booth when an intensely glowing blade caught your eye. “What’s that? It’s gorgeous!”

“hey paps, take note. slake likes shinies.”

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

The merchant was kindly and gentle. She grabbed the huge, runed scimitar and its ornate pattern-burned scabbard and turned to you.

"It is blessed." She said, her aged voice making her seem even wiser than her wrinkled and gnarled fingers. "It glows only in the presence of a Chosen One."

You snorted. Mettaton failed his roll on that one. "It glows in the presence of Dragonborn, doesn’t it?"

Her gentle facade cracked. Her voice roughened to an old sailor’s wife. "Yes, I suppose it does."

"It’s a sword and a torch all in one." You said, grinning at her. "And I’d be hard-pressed to lose it in plain sight, or in the dark."

Her smile returned a bit. "Yes, that’s right!"

"How much?"

Mettaton rolled high, but you rolled higher. With a defeated sigh, she grumbled "200 gold."

"Fuckin _deal_." You grinned at her. "Got anything else?"

She stared at you blankly until you left.

Sans and Papyrus were talking in front of another booth, and you tried to sneak up on them. It appears Sans’ passive perception skill was higher than you thought because you saw him grin right before you goosed both of them in the ass.

Papyrus yelped and whirled-- and now yours and his horns were interlocked.

"OH GOD THIS IS THE WORST CASE SCENARIO!" You yelled.

Sans had to climb you like a tree to disentangle you, but he laughed the entire time.

Papyrus felt conflicted. "That was a very bad feeling and I now crave affection."

You laughed and pulled him into a bear hug.

"I am about to be suplexed, aren’t I?" He asked, stiffening in your arms.

"I mean, I could if you’re into that."

He paused. "Just do it."

You let go of him and gave him an odd look. "What, dude?"

He looked confused. "I wanted to assess your suplexing skills."

"bro, last time you got suplexed, you became a cracked egg."

Papyrus growled and you bit your tongue in an effort to ignore it.

Sans growled back, and you realized they could to some extent tell what you were feeling.

"I hate both of you."

They laughed, Papyrus gave Sans a piggyback ride, and the three of you hit another booth.

 

* * *

 

Alphys had parts strewn fucking _everywhere_ and Undyne was trying to help her as she assembled her fourth halfling-sized mechanical bear.

Umiyo finally staggered out of the bedroom and drank a literal pitcher of water in one go before promptly returning to the room and locking the door again.

Undyne was dreading talking to her mother outside of the simulation. She wasn’t sure if she’d still be upset about the door thing or if she’d be confused, or if this would be her new obsession or-- she had a headache now.

"Alphy, babe… what are we doing?"

"Assembling our strange children because this character only knows how to build bears..."

"Jesus, Alphys, how many babies are we making?"

Alphys paused her movements. "I uh.... h-how many do you want?"

 

* * *

 

Muffet hadn’t gotten the memo to meet at the inn, so she stumbled onto the ship’s deck to find Grillby teaching the orcs sea shanties.

“Name all the ways to enrage a dragon, name all the ways to enrage a dragon, name all the ways to enrage a dragon in a music number!” To the tune of [Drunken Sailor.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGyPuey-1Jw)

Grillby started up the song and the rest joined in after a moment. The first orc sang, “Constantly reward them with a shit-covered rock, constantly reward them with a shit-covered rock, constantly reward them with a shit-covered rock after an encounter!”

Grillby laughed. “Way-hey, watch those horns. Way-hey, watch those horns. Way-hey, watch those horns now, when you tease a dragon!”

The second orc sang, “Purposely misconstrue the name of their ship, purposely misconstrue the name of their ship, purposely misconstrue the name of their ship in an act of pettiness!”

Once again, Grillby and the other orcs joined in the chorus, stomping and keeping time with their hands.

The third orc, straight-up with Mettaton’s voice, oversang, posing dramatically. “Set them up for death in a bad encounter, set them up for death in a bad encounter, set them up for death in a bad encounter-- none of you should have survived!”

Muffet would have joined in for the chorus this time, but she didn’t know if she could handle the movements right now. She was pleasantly exhausted.

Mor’guth sang this time. “Let yourself be seduced by their father, let yourself be seduced by their father, let yourself be seduced by their father, and just-so-you-know it was _worth it_!”

Everyone was laughing too hard for a moment to continue, but then, “So many ways to enrage a dragon, so many ways to enrage a dragon, so many ways to enrage a dragon in this simulation!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do YOU do to enrage a dragon?
> 
>  
> 
> Whistle nipples.
> 
>  
> 
> (i had to cut it off here because it's hard to keep writing in the doc when i have to scroll through 12+ pages to get to the start of my notes. plus, at that point, it takes too long to edit the chapters. this was as good a place to end as any, considering that i added the song at the end just as a bonus.)

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I never meant to start this. I never meant to do this to myself, but at least Papyrus is fun to write. He's ADD and a total dork. Some things never change!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Obligation - an Underfell Alphyne Ficlet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8632156) by [RavenZaphara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/RavenZaphara)




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